


The King and the Wildman's Heir

by theramblinrose



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, Carzekiel, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2019-11-05 01:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: Caryl/Carzekiel ZA.  Let me start this by saying that Caryl is the romantic relationship here and Carzekiel is a friendship ship here.  They are married, but it’s not a traditional marriage.She could never love him the way that he wanted, and he’d come to accept that.  Still, he could love her just as much as she needed, even if that meant accepting the Wildman.





	1. Chapter 1

AN: I have no excuse for this other than I simply got the feels for it and I wanted to write it. That’s it. That’s all that I have to say for myself.

Here’s a little about it. Carol and Ezekiel are together. They’re “married,” but they’re not “really” married. Carol is still in love with someone else—and I think you know who. 

There is some mention of past relationships that Carol has had. Sorry, she’s no blushing virgin, and I haven’t written her that way. There’s nothing explicit, though. She just does something of a run-down of feelings and past/present experiences.

This is a little one shot about a situation that arises. I may write a second part to this eventually, but for now it’s just a one shot. 

I own nothing from the Walking Dead. I haven’t even seen the show in a couple of years so please don’t hold me accountable for canon or any of that nonsense since I haven’t even seen the darn show. I just keep up with snippets on Tumblr.

Anyway, I doubt that anyone will read this, but if you do, I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

“It’s a blessing on our kingdom,” Ezekiel said. Carol moved her finger to drop the blind back into place on the bedroom window. She didn’t step away from the window immediately, though.

The sound of his voice and the fake kingly accent normally didn’t bother her, but right now she could absolutely feel it crawling up her spine at a sprint.

“Ezekiel, please,” Carol said. 

“What do you want, my queen?” He asked.

“Cut the crap?” Carol asked.

She turned around to find him smiling at her as he sat on the bed, one leg crossed under him. She sucked in a breath, held it, and released it slowly. She wasn’t angry with Ezekiel. Actually, there had been very few times that she’d really been angry with him.

At her request, as usual, he did drop the act. He didn’t drop his smile, though, even though his eyes did show that he was sincere.

“What do you want me to say, Carol? I believe it’s a blessing. It will be a blessing for the Kingdom. Do you know how happy our people will be when they find out that their queen is going to give them another royal heir?” 

Carol’s stomach churned.

“Please don’t call me that,” she said. 

“That’s how they think of you,” Ezekiel said. “Unless—you’re regretting that decision?” 

“What are you going to do about it?” Carol asked.

“The marriage?” Ezekiel asked.

Carol swallowed. She was surprised at herself. She was surprised at how angry she felt. Ezekiel had done nothing to her. He’d done nothing to make her angry. Nobody had done anything to make her angry. She’d woken up, honestly, feeling like her skin was electrically charged and crackling with her anger and irritation.

She might have clawed her way out of her own body if she’d thought it was possible to escape herself at that moment. 

“The—baby,” she said. 

The word stuck in her throat. It scratched at her throat. It made it feel raw. It made her stomach churn, too, and reminded her that she was only a half-hour away from the majority of the morning that she’d spent on her hands and knees vomiting into a bucket and crying over her situation.

“Well—I’m going to love it,” Ezekiel said. “I’m going to announce to the people that their queen—my wonderful wife—is expecting. And then I’m going to take care of my wife and wait for the baby to come. And when it comes, I’m going to love it.” 

“As your own?” Carol asked. She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back against the windowsill behind her. 

Ezekiel held his arms out, open, toward her. He invited her, without saying anything, to come toward him and embrace him.

She ached to embrace him at that moment, and he must have been able to sense it. She stood there, a moment longer, to try and show that she didn’t need his comfort, but in the end her desire to be comforted won out over her pride. She came forward and he got to his feet to properly envelop her in a strong hug. He stroked the back of her head. He stroked her hair. He rubbed her back. She closed her eyes to the comfort of the embrace.

She loved him dearly. She was truly sorry that she could never love him the way he’d once hoped she would. At least he accepted the love that she did have to offer, and he returned it back tenfold. 

“I will gladly take the baby as my own,” Ezekiel said. “There’s no question.”

“This was never supposed to happen,” Carol said. “I’m too old.”

Ezekiel laughed and the laughter shook Carol as well. 

“Clearly that’s something you’ve just been telling yourself,” Ezekiel said. “If you’ll allow me to—bring back the crap—it’s been common knowledge to me that as long as my lady’s moons come upon her, this is something that might come to pass.”

“What are you going to tell everyone?” Carol asked, pulling away from him. 

Ezekiel smiled at her. He smiled warmly all the way to his eyes. He had sweet, soulful eyes. Carol felt a few of the knots in her chest untangling at the warmth of his smile. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“I’m going to tell them that I am thrilled that my queen is bearing me a child,” Ezekiel said. “I’m the king. I don’t owe them anything else.”

“You’re sterile,” Carol said.

Ezekiel made a face at her and, at the most inopportune of moments, Carol could feel humor bubbling up inside her at the expression. She pursed her lips at him to avoid laughing. 

“I told you that as my wife,” Ezekiel said. “But—you may be surprised to know that you’re the only person in the Kingdom that is privy to that information. Nobody else needs to know that I’m incapable of fathering a child. Nor do they need to know that the queen and I have never properly consummated our marriage—even though we sleep in the same bed together every night for the warmth and the companionship.”

Carol sighed and, stepping away from him entirely, went over to the bed. She sat down and ran her fingers over the blanket. 

Ezekiel had offered her so many things. He’d given her everything she’d asked of him, too. He was generous, perhaps, to a fault. 

Carol wanted a family. She enjoyed the strength that she’d found—or rather the strength that she’d cultivated to be something that others could see. She enjoyed being known for her skill with a knife, a gun, and a bow. She enjoyed her role as a semi-leader for the Kingdom. 

But Carol had always wanted a family. She’d always enjoyed the domesticity of being a wife and a mother. Whether or not every woman saw it as a noble cause, it was something she’d dreamed of her entire life. 

She’d found Ed first. She’d believed that she loved him, but he’d eventually numbed her to that love. She’d lost the daughter that he’d given her—the only child that she’d carried in her body.

Until now.

She’d found something of a surrogate motherhood with Judith, but she shared the girl with everyone else. Then she’d been made responsible for Lizzy and Mika. 

For a brief moment, Carol had stood by a water pump and believed she might find a home and family with Tyreese. She might, in some way, become his wife—or at least his partner. Together they might raise three little girls. They might know a life together that was at least dotted with some peace.

But she’d lost that dream quickly and violently—before it had even fully come to fruition. 

She’d adopted a role of feigned domesticity when she’d arrived at Alexandria and, losing herself among casseroles and cookies, she’d realized that she still ached for the home and family that she felt she needed deep down inside.

But everyone died. And the one man that she loved—truly loved—was so damaged by a world that was determined to destroy them all that she doubted if he could ever really love her. Even if he could love her, she doubted that he’d ever want a home and family with her.

She had sought comfort and the chance to pretend that she’d found what she was looking for in Tobin. What he’d lacked in desirability, he’d made up for in kindness. Carol had tried her best to play house with him. She’d tried her best to care for him. But at the end of the day, it was just a game, and she wasn’t very good at playing it. 

Carol felt sorry when Tobin died, even though she’d left him long before that, because she’d never loved him. She’d never given him what he needed or what he wanted from her. He had been good to her and, if she had allowed it, he would have been even better to her. 

She couldn’t love him, though. And she was sorry for not having told him that from the start. 

She had told Ezekiel from the start that she could never love him. 

Her heart already belonged to someone else, even if he never really wanted to have it entirely for himself. 

Ezekiel had asked her to marry him, fully aware of her love for Daryl. He’d promised her that he would never ask from her more than she was willing to give. He’d promised her, too, that he would never stand in the way of her love. He wasn’t interested in possessing her entirely—mind, body, and spirit. He sought companionship. He wanted her love, but he was happy even if that love was no more than the love of a very dear friend. He wanted to worship her body, but he understood if she didn’t want to share that side of herself—and he understood if she wanted to, but preferred to remain somewhat detached. He didn’t mind offering her nothing more than mere physical pleasure, because every body craved pleasure and physical closeness, if that was what she wanted. He would allow her to decide, each step of the way, what she wanted from their relationship.

He promised her that he would never force her to answer questions that she didn’t want to answer, and he would allow her to go off, whenever she needed, to seek whatever it was that she seemed to desperately need.

He knew about her Wildman and her need to visit the forest—and he would never stop her from making the trips.

He would never ask more of her than she was willing to give, and he would forever be happy with anything she gave. So far, he had kept that promise even more so than Carol might have ever expected from him. 

In return for anything she was willing to offer him, he would marry her. He would offer her companionship. He would offer her comfort when she needed it and company to chase away the loneliness. He would provide her with a home and stability, and he would help her raise her adopted son, Henry.

And he would never hold against her the man that she loved because he understood unrequited love.

Carol did love Ezekiel. Even if she could never love him the way that he wished she would. 

“They’ll know when it’s born,” Carol said. “Ezekiel—they’re going to know that it’s not your baby. They’re going to know that I...”

“I’ll dare any of them to speak a word against the honor of their queen,” Ezekiel said. “Besides—Henry shares very little in common with me physically. Yet, I know he’s my son. Just as you know he’s your son.” 

Carol swallowed and nodded her head. 

“What’s Henry going to say?” Carol asked.

“He’ll be thrilled,” Ezekiel said. “A baby brother or sister. Someone to protect and cherish. He’ll be very protective of his mother during this delicate time.”

Ezekiel moved to the bed and sat down next to Carol. He dropped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against him. He smelled nice. He smelled familiar. The time that they’d spent together, at least, had brought that. Carol could find comfort with him.

“In everything you’ve asked me,” Ezekiel said, “I’ve noticed that you’ve had very little concern for what Carol would say. For what Carol would think.”

“I wasn’t prepared to be a mother again,” Carol said.

“But now that you are...” Ezekiel said. Carol could hear the question in his voice that prompted her to continue. 

“It would be dangerous to try to get rid of it,” Carol said.

“Something tells me that isn’t what you would want,” Ezekiel said, tightening his hold on her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we’ll find the best healthcare that we possibly can. If that’s what you want.”

Carol laughed to herself.

“I still want the best healthcare we can find,” Carol said. “Because—I’m a little bit terrified.”

“It’s as good as done,” Ezekiel assured her. 

“But I don’t want to get rid of it,” Carol said. “In fact, I’m a little terrified that something might happen to it.”

“We’ll do our best,” Ezekiel said. “There are no promises, of course, but we’ll do our best. Have you told him?”

Carol immediately knew that he was referring to Daryl.

“I only just realized it for myself,” Carol said. “I haven’t been back...”

“You should tell him,” Ezekiel said. “The weather is nice. It doesn’t seem like there are any storms coming. It would be a good time for you to make the trip. Still—I think you should take Henry with you this time. Just to be sure. You should tell Daryl, though. At the very least, he deserves to know that the heir you’re carrying is really his.”

Carol laughed insincerely to herself.

“He’s so tangled up in his pain,” Carol said. “His anger. He doesn’t have room for this.”

“He’s never once turned you away,” Ezekiel said. 

“It’s physical to him,” Carol said. 

“You know this because you’ve asked him?” Ezekiel asked.

“I know this because he’s never said any different,” Carol said. 

“Have you?” Ezekiel asked. Carol didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. He knew the answer. He hummed in response. “Some men can’t say the words. Some women can’t either. Especially not—not after everything.” 

“With everything that’s happened, this would be the worst news to him,” Carol said. “He doesn’t need this.”

“Shouldn’t you at least tell him?” Ezekiel asked. “Give him the chance to make that decision?” 

“And then what?” Carol asked with a laugh. “I bring him back here? I dust off the dirt and the twigs and the leaves? I peel the hides off that have nearly grown to him and I bring my Wildman of the forest back to the Kingdom? I force him to live in my home with—my husband?”

Ezekiel laughed. 

“Though I would gladly be your love, Carol,” Ezekiel said, “we both know that I am little more than a companion to you.” 

“I do love you, Ezekiel,” Carol offered.

“I know you do,” Ezekiel said. “And I love you. And—we both love Henry and we’ll both love this baby. And if you brought your Wildman of the forest back here, we would make it work. It wouldn’t be the first time that a king and queen occupied separate bedchambers, and it wouldn’t be the first time that royalty took a lover.” He laughed again. “Besides—the people do enjoy a good scandal and the Kingdom has needed a little awakening as of late.”

Carol laughed. She reached her hand over and patted Ezekiel’s leg. She puckered her lips at him and offered him a kiss. Kisses, handholding, and hugs were the only physical affections that she offered Ezekiel, but he never complained, and he never turned them down. He pecked her lips and smiled at her. With a finger, he brushed her hair back where it fell into her face.

“Well, my queen? Should I gather together the subjects for a blessed announcement?” Ezekiel asked.

Carol nodded. 

“I think—I think we might as well,” Carol said.

“And should I ready the horses for the queen and the prince to depart thereafter?” Ezekiel asked.

Carol swallowed against the nausea that welled up inside her. 

“I think I’m more afraid that he wouldn’t care at all,” Carol said, “than I am that—he would care.”

“However he feels,” Ezekiel said. “He deserves to know. He may surprise you.”

“Losing Rick—it’s been hard on him. Everything. It’s been hard on him,” Carol said. “Something like this might be too much. It’s better if it’s my burden.”

“It’s not just your burden,” Ezekiel said.

“I’d rather wait,” Carol said. “Give him time. I’d rather—take some time, myself, to sit with it. To get used to it.”

Ezekiel nodded.

“Very well,” he said. “For the time being, I will help you carry the weight of it. Come, my queen. Let’s tell the prince. Then, together, we can tell the Kingdom that you’ll be giving them an heir.”

Carol stood up. 

“Thank you for understanding,” she offered. 

Ezekiel nodded again and refreshed his smile before he offered her an arm.

“I’ll understand, as well, when you decide to disappear to the forest like the faerie queen I know you to be,” he assured her. “All I ask is that—you don’t stay gone forever. Even if you should find that you can never truly return. That you can never truly leave your Wildman. Don’t stay gone forever. Even if you just come back to visit.” 

Carol slipped her arm into his and leaned her face against his shoulder.

“I couldn’t stay gone forever,” she promised. “I’ll always come back.” She laughed to herself. “Even if I have to drag my Wildman with me and find a way to explain it to all your subjects.”


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Here we are. I had a few chapters planned in this short story, but I wasn’t sure that anyone would be interested. It seems that a few of you are, so I’ll share them with you as I’m able. 

I just want to remind everyone that I haven’t been watching the show. I also don’t write the show. I didn’t make the decision to have Carol and Ezekiel marry in the first place. The fic is simply a way for me to reconcile things. There are thousands of ways that fic writers could do this. This is just one of them that came to me. I don’t mean to upset anyone and you have my apologies if you feel upset.

I hope you enjoy the chapter as it prepares us to move forward. 

Please let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The morning sickness in the earliest days of Carol’s pregnancy had been brutal enough that she had almost come to believe that she was finally being punished for everything she’d done wrong in her life. If the punishment the morning sickness doled out hadn’t been enough, what it did to her body seemed to have knocked her immune system offline entirely. Every illness that came into the Kingdom found its way to her room somehow and she contracted it all at once. One thing after enough had slammed her body until she’d finally succumbed to it all enough to accept defeat and the bedrest that the doctor prescribed to her when there was nothing else to be done.

In between bouts of illness and fever—sometimes feeling like she might die and other times feeling like she was absolutely on the verge of losing another child—Carol had found the time to meticulously stumble through the events of her life and marvel at how, no matter where it seemed that she ended up, she always got there with the strange sense of ending up waist deep in something with no recollection of how she’d let herself get so deep in and with no knowledge of how to get herself out.

After she ran from Tobin, she had never intended to end up with anyone. But Daryl needed her, and she love him, and Ezekiel had needed her, and she’d cared for him...and Henry had needed her.

And somewhere, her self-worth had gotten tangled up with being needed. She’d almost gone blindly to wherever it was that she was needed. 

She’d done things that she could never reconcile because that was what someone had needed her to do. 

Maybe the only person whose needs she had consistently ignored was the one person she could never actually be without.

She had needs, too, even if she’d always silenced them.

She’d told Ezekiel as much when she was consumed by a bout of fever, and he hadn’t let her forget it when the fever had passed.

Henry knew that the Kingdom was little more than an elaborate fantasy. It was a community like any other of the communities, and its people and contributions were real, but he knew that Ezekiel only called himself King and created the façade of a kingdom to give his people a respite from a harsh reality and to give them something to believe in. Ezekiel was not their king because he actually believed himself to be a king. 

Henry knew, as well, that Carol wasn’t a queen.

Henry understood the difference between make-believe and reality, and they hoped that having that understanding would help him when they explained the truth to him about their marriage. 

The marriage, itself—the wedding and all that had really followed—had really been something for the people. In a time when morale was dropping and something of a depression was settling over the people, a royal wedding created a wonderful piece of fairytale to lift everyone’s spirits. The marriage also helped, politically, to create a stronger bond and closer sense of kinship among those that belonged to the Kingdom and those that belonged to the other communities which held more of Carol’s long-ago-adopted family.

But now, perhaps, it was time to let the curtain fall.

They’d spoken to Henry even before Carol felt well enough to be confident that she or the baby would survive the bouts of sickness that had attacked her. He was old enough to understand now. He was old enough to know. 

But the truth had still surprised him, and it had shattered, at least a little, the reality that he thought he knew. His parents loved one another, because they’d told him that themselves, but they’d never quite loved each other in the way that he’d imagined.

Henry had run away, but he hadn’t gone far. Ezekiel had found him at the cabin that Carol still used from time to time when she needed an escape. Whether it was what Ezekiel said to him or the fact that he was worried about Carol—Carol couldn’t be sure which—Henry had come back quickly and declared that, though he was upset, he supported both of his parents and their decisions. He would support them, too, as they brought the truth to light for the people of the Kingdom.

Before the Kingdom could know, though, someone else needed to know a bit more about their lives.

Carol had been too sick to make it to the Hilltop where she might have had an ultrasound. She’d been too sick to really even be concerned with making it out of her bed. She didn’t know how far along she was, and she could only guess that the baby she was carrying was healthy because there was nothing that had happened to tell her otherwise. 

Whether it had been because of the weight she’d lost, because her body had once before accommodated the growth of another child, or because it had taken a while for her to realize that she was carrying the baby, Carol couldn’t say, but she felt that she already had a quite noticeable bump to mark the spot where the child was growing. 

It was starting to show itself in other ways, too.

Carol felt a strong hand wrap around her arm as she nearly toppled backward while trying to get to her feet after kneeling down to examine some of their growing vegetables more closely. She was practically placed securely on her feet so that her changing balance didn’t cause her any harm.

“My queen,” Jerry said, beaming at her when she turned around to face him. “The wagon is ready now.” 

Jerry had taken her illness very badly. He’d come to check on her nearly every day and he’d offered to care for her, himself, whenever Ezekiel needed to be absent for one reason or another. He’d been clearly afraid that she’d simply give up and let one of the high fevers consume her entirely. Carol already knew that he would take it hard when she and Ezekiel exposed the truth about their relationship and the child she was carrying, but she was confident that he’d come around and, one day, he’d understand. 

“I asked you not to call me that, Jerry,” Carol said. She softened her scolding with a smile. She wasn’t really mad at him, but she didn’t care for the fake title. 

Jerry beamed back at her. 

“One day,” he offered. “How is the princess?” 

Carol felt her cheeks run warm. She still wasn’t used to the idea that she was carrying a baby even though enough time had passed that it should have become more natural to her. It still didn’t feel right for others to talk about it. It felt foreign. Jerry would have a special interest in the child, however, due to his closeness to Ezekiel and, by extension, his affections for Carol.

“We don’t know that it’s a girl, Jerry,” Carol replied. 

Jerry renewed his smile.

“Her mother saw it in a dream, and that’s good enough for me until we have other proof,” Jerry said.

“It was less a dream and more a fever-driven hallucination,” Carol said. “But the baby is fine as far as I can tell.”

Jerry was clearly pleased.

“The wagon is ready,” he repeated. “And the prince and the king are waiting. I can accompany you, if you’d like.”

“Henry and I will be fine,” Carol assured him. 

She started in the direction where she knew that she’d find the wagon. Jerry walked with her, keeping step even though his strides were naturally larger than hers. 

“To the Hilltop?” Jerry asked. “Or—off on another quest?”

Carol laughed to herself.

Ezekiel called her trips to see Daryl “visits to her Wildman” when they spoke among themselves. When he spoke to the people of the Kingdom, he simply said that she was going on a “Quest”. She’d asked him once while he told them that instead of telling them something else, and he’d explained that a quest was a journey in search of something, and that he always felt that Carol was going in search of a piece of herself when she ventured out to meet her Wildman. 

He’d asked her more than once if she’d found what she was looking for when she got back. She’d always told him that she hadn’t quite found what she was looking for and that, perhaps, she wasn’t even sure what she was seeking or if Daryl had it to offer.

The twisting sensation in her gut made her feel strangely hopeful that she’d find it this time—or at least that she’d finally find an answer that she could settle with. 

“A quest,” Carol said. 

“I hope it is a successful one,” Jerry offered.

“Me too,” Carol said sincerely.

When she reached the wagon, Ezekiel was standing there with Henry. The few things they’d take with them were already loaded in the back of the wagon. It would have been checked out for safety, but there would be tools for emergencies in the back, along with weapons. The horses had been fed and watered, but there would be provisions for them as well. 

Ezekiel smiled at her as she walked up and he reached out a hand. When Carol caught it, he pulled her to him and pressed his lips to her cheek. She smiled to herself. 

Henry watched the two of them. He didn’t say anything, but Carol could see something in his expression. He was trying to read them. Knowing the truth as he now knew it, he was trying to come to terms with things. He was trying to understand what each touch, gesture, and expression meant. 

Carol offered him a smile. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Are you sure you don’t mind coming with me?” She asked. “I can drive the horses on my own, you know.” 

“You need someone to look out for you,” Henry said. 

Carol laughed to herself and Henry’s face finally broke from his stern expression to give way to a little joviality.

“I was taking care of myself a long time before you came into my life,” Carol offered.

“Mom...” was all that Henry offered, the word coming out with a bit of laughter attached to it. He didn’t say anything else. He turned and immediately walked around, crawling onto the wagon. Ezekiel offered Carol a jacket that he’d carried tossed over his shoulder.

“It’s getting chilly,” he said. “It’ll be colder on the wagon. You’re not fully recovered. The least you can do is try to keep as well as possible.”

Carol smiled at him and thanked him quietly. He held it out for her and she let him help her put it on, though she was fully capable of dressing herself. He caught her by the upper part of the arms and squeezed her muscles. 

“I can go with you if you want,” he said. 

Carol glanced at Jerry. They would tell the Kingdom together, but this wasn’t the time and it wasn’t the way for the Kingdom to learn about their little charade.

“I think it’s better if you don’t,” Carol said. “It would be hard for you.”

“I could do it if you needed me to,” he offered.

“It would make things more difficult,” Carol said. “If you need Henry here...”

“Henry wants to go,” Ezekiel said. “He won’t hear otherwise.” 

Carol nodded.

“We’ll make it before dark,” Carol said.

“If you see that you won’t,” Ezekiel said, “stop somewhere. Don’t take chances.”

“I won’t,” Carol said. “Not with Henry.”

“And other precious cargo,” Ezekiel offered. 

Carol felt her cheeks run warm.

“That too,” she said.

“It looks to be a clear day,” Ezekiel said. “But if it should rain, seek shelter. Don’t stay out in the elements too long. You’re not fully recovered.”

“I’m well,” Carol assured him. “But we’ll take cover.”

Ezekiel leaned forward and Carol allowed him to peck her lips before she accepted the warm hug that he offered her. Then she bid farewell to Jerry and started to climb onto the wagon. With Henry reaching for her hand to pull her up and Ezekiel boosting her from behind, she had no chance of falling off the side of the wagon in her ascent.

“Henry—take care of your mother,” Ezekiel offered.

“If she’ll let me,” Henry offered with a laugh. 

Even though she would normally drive the team herself, Carol let Henry take the reins. She sat back and enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the slight chill in the air as they started out of the Kingdom with Henry driving. 

She’d woken up that morning with a heaviness in her chest—a heaviness that had been there for a very long time—but, suddenly, she was feeling lighter than she could recall having felt in a while. 

She slid over, closer to her son on the wagon’s seat. This wasn’t his first time visiting Daryl—even if he’d never known the nature of their relationship before—and Carol trusted that he could remember where to go for at least the next little while.

This time, she could just enjoy getting there.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

Just a reminder that I don’t watch the show beyond the occasional peek at something on Tumblr so I don’t claim for anyone to be in-character for the current season.

I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Sometimes Carol found Daryl on the road as he returned to his camp from scrounging up supplies. Other times, she found him simply spending his time at the camp. Those times, he usually seemed to be lost in some kind of deep and long-lasting contemplation. Sometimes, when she found him like that, she asked him what was on his mind. Other times, she didn’t because she already knew that life had given them both a great deal to think about. The good thoughts, she didn’t want to interrupt. The bad thoughts, she didn’t want to force him to say out loud.

In those moments, Carol didn’t mind just being quiet with Daryl. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, even if he never put his appreciation into words. 

This trip, she found him relatively close to his camp, but he was still walking just on the edge of the somewhat worn road. In his hooded cloak—worn to ward off the residual chill of a winter that hadn’t yet released its hold on the world—and carrying a large bundle of firewood, Daryl really did look like the Wildman that Ezekiel teased that he was.

“Going our way?” Carol called out to him as soon as she recognized him. He turned around quickly to glare at whoever would interrupt his solitude—fully prepared to turn her away—but then he smiled as soon as he recognized her.

Without her having to give the command, Henry pulled the reins and stopped the horses from moving forward. The wagon rocked as it came to a stop. 

“Get on,” Carol said. “We’ll give you a ride.”

“Unlike some people,” Daryl responded, “I ain’t got too fancy to use my feet.” 

He only wanted to give Carol a hard time, though. He wasn’t sincere, and she knew it because he was already making his way to the wagon. They waited while he put his bundle in the wagon and crawled up, and then Carol touched Henry’s arm to let him know that they were ready to continue on their way to the camp.

Daryl didn’t say anything in the wagon, and Carol didn’t press him to talk. They all rode along in a relatively comfortable silence that was only broken when Carol had to give Henry directions to make sure that he entered Daryl’s camp in the proper way so that they could pen and protect the horses from any Walkers that might stumble near and avoid the traps that Daryl had set for them.

When they reached the camp, Daryl got down with the firewood and offered little more than a grumbled thanks before he started going about his normal routine for the evening. Carol knew it well by now. She wasn’t unaccustomed to the way that Daryl lived his life, even if she did actually prefer living in the Kingdom to the unnecessary level of “roughing it” that Daryl preferred now that he’d removed himself entirely from their various communities.

Carol stayed in her place on the wagon’s seat for a few moments, and Henry followed suit. Daryl’s immediate concern was starting a fire. He’d started so many of them in the small fire pit that he could do it quickly and impressively. He’d barely begun to construct the first layers of the fire before the flame was already climbing upward and growing into more than the tiny spark it had begun as. Daryl stoked it and strategically added wood to the fire to make it grow and keep it burning for a while. The extra firewood he stacked just far enough away that it wouldn’t accidentally catch fire, but not so far that he’d have to go a great distance to continue feeding the flames. 

When he straightened up from his work with the fire, he poured out the contents of a pot that was possibly holding some remnants of some meal or some stagnated water, and then he finally turned to address Carol and Henry.

If Carol didn’t know him as well as she did, she might have taken his expression to heart. He practically glowered at them.

“You just come to sit on the wagon and watch me?” Daryl asked. “Or you actually intendin’ on stayin’?”

Carol smiled to herself.

“We’ll stay,” she said. “It looks like there might be a storm, anyway.” 

“If it’s like the past couple days...” Daryl said, but he never finished.

Daryl’s camp was set up perfectly for Carol and Henry to visit any time they wanted. Since the very first time that she’d brought Henry, the second, smaller, tent had appeared. It always seemed maintained now. Daryl’s tent was larger and slept two quite easily. Both of the tents were nice enough to keep out the elements, and Carol was sure they’d stand up to a storm since Daryl lived in the camp almost full-time.

The only time Daryl ever slept away from the camp was when he came to visit her. When he came, the two of them retired to the little cabin that she’d called home for some time. It was only a short distance from the Kingdom, but it gave them privacy.

Henry quickly got down off the wagon in the overly-enthusiastic way that he normally did. Like any young man, he was full of energy and he always had to do things in the biggest and showiest way he could. Rather than climb down, he leapt down from the wagon and landed solidly on his feet. Before Carol could even make a move to climb down from the wagon, Henry had circled around to her side and offered his hands up to her to help her as she climbed down.

She didn’t truly need the help, but Henry would be on edge. He’d know that she was a little weaker than she had been before—thanks to the illness that she’d feared would rob her of what she hoped would be some years more of life—and he’d want to protect her from accidentally falling to the ground in case it might complicate things with the child she was carrying. Despite biological parentage, and despite any feelings he had to deal with about the reveal of Carol and Ezekiel’s arrangement, Henry considered the little one his sibling. 

Carol allowed Henry to wrap his hands around her ribcage and help her as she found her way to the ground. She thanked him with a smile and quick kiss on the cheek that made his face run red. He glanced in Daryl’s direction like he wanted to see if Daryl had noticed the kiss and might ridicule him for letting his mother kiss him in public. 

Daryl was watching them. He did see the kiss, but he didn’t ridicule Henry. Instead, he chewed at his cuticle—a sure sign that something about the gesture had made him uncomfortable. Something about seeing Carol with Henry always made Daryl at least a little bit uncomfortable, though he’d never actually explained it to her when she’d asked him what it was.

As soon as she was on her feet, Carol straightened her clothes and asked Henry to get their things. He knew that she shared the tent with Daryl, and he knew the smaller single tent was for him. He didn’t have to ask. This time, though, he would know that the arrangement wasn’t to give him privacy so that he wasn’t sleeping near his mother or changing in the same tent with her. The single tent wasn’t for his benefit as much as it was for theirs. Still, he didn’t say anything about it—not yet. He simply went about getting their things out of the wagon and moving them to the tents.

“Blankets is kinda clean,” Daryl said. “With the rain I ain’t had a chance to wash ‘em in a couple days.”

“We’ve slept on worse,” Carol said. “I remember the one time we came in the summer and left with fleas.” She laughed to herself. “It took us weeks to get rid of all of them.”

“Your King prob’ly ain’t appreciated you infestin’ his castle with fleas,” Daryl said.

Carol walked closer to the fire where Daryl was doing something of an odd pacing move that kept him busy even though he clearly hadn’t thought of exactly what he wanted to do next. She didn’t miss the bite in his voice. He didn’t want her to miss it. He wanted it to sting.

Ezekiel accepted Daryl. It had been laid out from the start the way that she felt about Daryl.

Daryl accepted Ezekiel only because he liked that Carol had the stability and the security of the Kingdom and her relationship with the man who called himself King. 

Carol felt that Daryl wanted more, but he was too afraid to admit it. Even when she’d asked him, he’d denied it. He was always too afraid to admit it. 

She might think that he really didn’t want more, but if that were true, then she felt that he wouldn’t ever be bothered by her past or current relationships. The fact that he could be, at times, sensitive, made her feel like he must have some feelings that he wasn’t being entirely honest about. 

Maybe he was afraid she’d say “no,” or maybe he was afraid that he had nothing to offer her. Carol didn’t pretend that she could read all of Daryl’s thoughts. Whatever the reason, he didn’t want her all to himself, but he didn’t exactly relish the thought of anyone else having her.

She had told him, before, the details of how her relationship with Ezekiel was. She’d promised him that the relationship wasn’t physical between them. And it never would be—if that’s how Daryl wanted it.

But she was starting to feel a churning in her gut that made her want to demand more from Daryl. There was an inexplicable urgency that was beginning to grow in her, and she felt like demanding something from him—even if it wasn’t her place to demand anything from Daryl.

Something inside her made her feel like it was time to make a proverbial stand—one way or another. 

“We all dealt with the fleas,” Carol said.

“Too cold for the fleas right now,” Daryl said. He picked up a stick that he might toss on the fire. Instead of tossing it on the fire, though, he turned it over in his hands and stared at Carol. The way he was looking at her almost made her feel uncomfortable and she started to look around for something she might do to break the trance.

“Where’s Dog?” Carol asked.

“He’s around,” Daryl said. “It’s about that time that he goes out—lookin’ for somethin’ to eat.”

“When’s the last time you ate?” Carol asked.

“Dog ate yesterday,” Daryl said.

“I wasn’t asking about him,” Carol said. “When’s the last time you ate?” 

Daryl sucked his teeth. He shrugged his shoulders. He studied the wood that he was neither truly committed to keeping nor to tossing in the fire. 

“Day or two,” he said. 

“No game?” Carol asked.

“Ain’t cleared the traps,” he said. He looked at her again with that piercing stare. Carol squared herself, ready to take the impact of the look’s intensity. Eventually Daryl would get around to explaining it. 

“I can fix something,” Carol said. “With whatever you’ve got on hand.” 

“Bound to be somethin’ in the traps,” Daryl said. “I imagine you’ve got past splittin’ a can of beans three ways.” 

Carol laughed to herself. She thought she saw a hint of a smile on Daryl’s face as he recalled a little of the hardships that they’d seen on the road. The smile didn’t last long, though, before he let it drop. The concerned expression returned to his features.

“I can still do it,” Carol said, “if the need arises.”

“Look at’cha,” Daryl said. “I reckon they feed you alright at the Kingdom.”

Carol felt a little struck.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked.

“You ain’t been missin’ too many meals,” Daryl said. “That’s what it means.”

Carol swallowed. Daryl hadn’t ever been the smoothest person ever. He did a great deal of biting his tongue and swallowing down his thoughts, but when they came out they were usually quite blunt. He wasn’t too concerned about hurting people’s feelings. From what Carol remembered of his brother, Merle, though, that might have been a family trait.

She put her hands on her hips. 

“I guess it’s more obvious than I even thought,” she said.

Daryl laughed to himself. His mood visibly lightened. He toyed with the piece of wood he was holding.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “A little weight ain’t never hurt nobody. Especially not these days. Just means your King’s doin’ a good job of providin’ for his Kingdom, I guess. Means—things are goin’ well. They can afford for everyone to eat good.”

Carol jumped when she heard Henry loudly clear his throat behind her. 

“Mom?” He called, more quietly than he should have if he genuinely needed to get her attention. Carol looked over her shoulder at him. He looked a little sheepish. “I think—I’m going to go and check some of the traps.”

“You remember where they are?” Carol asked.

Henry nodded his head. Carol nodded in response. 

“Just don’t go too far,” she said.

“I’ll stay close enough to hear you,” Henry promised.

“Good idea,” Daryl said. “I can cook us up somethin’. Make sure you don’t leave here determined you ain’t—that’cha ain’t never comin’ back ‘cause I don’t feed you like His Majesty does.”

Henry was gone before Daryl even finished speaking. He lit out of camp like one of the jackrabbits that he was hoping to go and collect from the traps.

Carol turned back to Daryl and swallowed down against the feeling of nerves and stomach acid rising up in her throat.

“Daryl—I haven’t gained weight from—from eating too much,” Carol said. “In fact—I’ve been ill. It’s why I’ve been gone so long this time. I lost a good bit of weight.” 

Daryl laughed nervously. Carol could tell by the fidgeting of his hands that he was nervous. She could tell by the way he searched for something to focus his eyes on before he returned them back to her. 

“You well now,” he said. It was half question and half answer. He visibly relaxed when Carol nodded her head. She might not feel the best she’d ever felt, but that wasn’t really what Daryl was asking. He would want to know if she was well enough that he didn’t have to worry about losing her. Very little else would matter to him because he would see any minor illness as something that could be overcome. He looked visibly relieved with her nod. He laughed to himself. This time it was less nervous than before. “Don’t fool yourself,” he said. “You mighta lost it, but you done OK in makin’ it back up.”

Carol swallowed again.

“It’s not fat,” Carol said. “It’s—a baby, Daryl.”

Daryl stared at her. She saw a lifetime of different emotions flash quickly across his face in rapid succession. He landed finally on something that appeared to be anger. It was a common emotion of Daryl’s when he seemed unable or unwilling to process any other. He tossed the stick of wood at the fire with enough force that, upon striking, it sent up a shower of sparks into the air.

“So you bring your son—his son—and his...his...” Daryl didn’t say it. He almost looked like he choked on the thought. Maybe there was even the expression of someone who thought they might be sick. “Damn near a family reunion. All that’s missin’ is the King himself.”

“Daryl—you don’t have any right to be mad at me,” Carol said, suddenly irritated by his reaction. She’d given him ample opportunity to be everything to her. Far more than Ezekiel would ever be. He’d even given her his blessing to marry Ezekiel and begin the life that had become common to all of them. 

“Except you fuckin’ lied to me!” Daryl growled. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Very few times in her life had Daryl rushed her like that—his finger coming up to point in her face and his lips drawn back in a snarl. “You lied to me! You said you weren’t fuckin’ him! That’s what’cha told me. Said—you an’ me...it was different!”

Carol might have flinched away from him at one point in her life. She might have moved to cover her face. She didn’t flinch away from him this time. She held her body still and prepared for any possible blow. Her expression must have given away more than she wanted. 

Daryl almost instantly relaxed.

“I wouldn’t hit you,” he said.

“And I wouldn’t lie to you,” Carol said. “It seems—we both still have a lot to learn. We’ve got some trust left to build.”

“Wouldn’t lie to me,” Daryl grumbled. He walked away two steps and turned around, practically rushing back to her. “Wouldn’t lie to me! But’cha did! You just said...”

“I said I was pregnant,” Carol said quickly, interrupting Daryl. “I never said it was his. It isn’t his. It couldn’t be. I didn’t lie to you. And—before you ask—there’s nobody else.”

Carol watched Daryl’s face. He stared at her, the same angry expression on his features, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, without his expression changing and without saying anything, he turned and practically staggered away from her—down to the bank where his camp met the lake. Carol watched him as he stood there, looking out over the water, almost as if the conversation had never taken place and he was alone at the camp.

Carol didn’t mind sharing silence with Daryl when he needed it, so she simply walked over to one of the logs near the fire and sat down to wait him out—entirely confident that Henry, who was no doubt quite close by and had probably been monitoring, from a hidden location, Daryl’s reaction up to this point—would conveniently be gone for however long it took for Daryl to want to talk about things.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I’m not pretending anyone is “in character” for the current run of things. I don’t even know what constitutes in character at this point. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

“It’s gonna rain,” Daryl said. It was the first thing that he’d said in a long while and it snatched Carol out of the quiet contemplation into which she’d fallen. She was almost embarrassed to even admit to herself that she’d very nearly fallen asleep on the piece of log that she was using as a seat near the low burning fire.

“What?” She asked. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but she had absolutely expected something different than what she’d heard, so she sought clarification to find out if he’d actually said something about the rain or if she had dozed off and simply dreamed it.

“It’s gonna rain,” Daryl said, erasing any doubt that she might have. “Ground gets damp. Temperature still drops at night. You don’t look a hundred percent. You ain’t strong yet. Not like you oughta be. Still sick. You ain’t had no business leavin’ the Kingdom to come out here an’ try to catch your death of pneumonia.”

“I’m well enough,” Carol said. “I’m not contagious.”

“That’s not what I was worried about,” Daryl offered. 

“The tents are dry,” Carol said. 

“Yeah. Fine. They keep the rain from fallin’ on you,” Daryl said. “But the ground still gets damp an’ cold.”

Carol knew that this wasn’t really about the cold or the dampness, but that’s what Daryl needed it to be about for the moment. He wasn’t good at direct conversation. He never had been. He would get there—and he always did—but he sometimes had to take the long way around before he talked himself into saying what was really on his mind. 

Carol had seen it before, more than once. She knew his secrets. He knew hers. They’d learned how to talk to each other. Carol spoke Daryl’s language fluently, and she knew how to be patient. She knew how to give him the time and the space that he needed. She knew, once he was settled, he’d speak as openly and as freely as anybody else—just as long as he was ready to live up to the truth of whatever he had to say.

If Daryl needed to talk about the cold and the dampness for a bit, Carol could talk about it.

“We have a few tarps and blankets,” Carol said. “They’re in the wagon. We packed them just in case there was a storm that stopped us before we got here. We thought we could make a camp somewhere for the night if we had to. Henry can help you make sure that we’re all set for the night when he gets back with whatever was in your traps.”

Henry had been gone a while, but Carol had the gut feeling that he was close by. If she scanned the trees with enough care, she might be able to find him. He wasn’t that great at camouflaging himself. He hadn’t made it to the traps—not yet. He was probably close enough to hear most of what was said. He wouldn’t actually go and check the traps until he was satisfied that things were going well enough at Daryl’s camp.

Henry trusted Daryl, but he was protective. He knew enough about Carol’s past to make him feel like he had some role that required him to protect her. It wasn’t true, of course, but it was part of who he was. It was part of what would, someday, make him a great man for some lucky woman, so Carol let him nurture that protective side of himself so that, when he married, he would know how he wanted to treat his wife.

Daryl glared at Carol at her mention of tarps and blankets out the back of their wagon. His features softened, then, and he gnawed his lip before he turned his face away from her and started pacing around his camp. He picked up a stick of firewood and threw it at the fire. It sent sparks flying up into the air and Carol waved them away as a few of them came too close to comfort.

“Sorry,” Daryl muttered.

“It’s OK,” Carol said. “You didn’t mean to and—there’s no harm.”

“Didn’t burn you?” Daryl asked. “Close to your face.”

Carol laughed to herself.

“My face is fine,” she assured him. “I’m fine.”

“Could get cold,” Daryl said. “Tonight. With the tents away from the fire.”

“I’m sure we can keep from freezing to death,” Carol said. “You survived the coldest parts of the winter so far. If we left now, we’d get caught in the storm. It would be worse than if we just stayed and rode it out here. But we could leave first thing in the morning for the house, Daryl. If it would make you feel better. Or—would you rather I just went back to the Kingdom and stayed there?” 

Daryl stopped his pacing. He looked directly at her. 

Carol wasn’t much in the practice of making Daryl take a stand about his feelings. To date, he’d never actually said that he loved her with so many words—though he’d certainly said it in his own way. More than once he’d declared that he didn’t want something more. He didn’t want something like marriage. He didn’t believe in commitment. He didn’t want to feel like anyone belonged to him or like he belonged to anyone. He preferred to be alone.

Carol’s company was nice. It was appreciated. It wasn’t required.

And Carol knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was lying. It was obvious that his lies even hurt him. But she’d let him tell them because somewhere he thought the lies protected him.

What he didn’t realize was that it was never her intention to hurt him. Even when she’d hurt him, she’d never done it intentionally.

Carol stood up. She ignored the stiffness that she felt in her body from the cold of the approaching evening and the dampness that was, as Daryl had predicted, seeping up from the piece of trunk.

“Would you have preferred if I hadn’t come at all, Daryl?” Carol asked.

He stared at her. He brought his thumb up to gnaw at his cuticle. He looked around the camp like he was looking for something, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. 

He was looking for the words to say next, but they weren’t there.

“You know—I like it when you come,” Daryl said. “Miss seein’ you.”

Carol smiled to herself.

“Then why don’t you welcome me?” Carol asked. “Make me feel like you want me here?” 

Daryl swallowed, nodded his head, and stepped toward Carol. She didn’t miss the deep frown that started to overtake his face. He wrapped his arms around her and she closed her eyes to the warmth of the embrace. She hugged him back as sincerely as she could. 

“I’m sure we can find a way to keep warm,” Carol offered before the hug broke. She smiled at him when he pulled away, and she accepted the soft kiss that he offered.

“You gonna get sick,” Daryl said. 

“I’ll be fine,” Carol said. “I feel stronger than I look.” She smiled at him. “I meant what I said. The house is clean and warm. Dry. Comfortable. Quiet.”

“Gonna rain tonight,” Daryl said. “Can’t get there until tomorrow.”

“I’ll do my best to survive one night if you promise me you’ll come tomorrow,” Carol said. “Just—for a few days?” 

Daryl nodded his head. It was not a very committed nod, but it was enough. Daryl worried his lip and stared at Carol, so she simply stood there in front of him and waited him out.

“You say—it’s a—I mean you...you sure that it’s somethin’?” Daryl stammered. 

Carol might not have known what he was talking about if he hadn’t backed up a step and nervously eyed what little evidence of a belly she could brag about having. She smiled at him. She nodded her head and hummed in the affirmative.”

“It’s something, alright,” Carol said. “It’s a baby. Or—at least that’s what I hope it is. If it isn’t, I’ve got bigger problems than a night on the damp ground.”

Daryl stared at her belly like he was trying to see through her shirt and through her skin to see the tiny forming human beyond.

“You say it’s—that it’s...mine?” Daryl asked.

“It’s yours,” Carol assured him. “I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

Daryl flicked his eyes back up to meet hers.

“His Majesty know that?” Daryl asked. “That it ain’t his?” 

Carol laughed to herself.

“Ezekiel is imaginative,” Carol said. “And he’s creative. But he isn’t delusional. He knows it isn’t his because he knows that—he knows there’s no way it could be his.”

“And your Kingdom?” Daryl asked.

“For the time being, they assume that it’s Ezekiel’s,” Carol said.

“Cause you told ‘em so?” Daryl asked.

“We told them I was pregnant,” Carol said. “We let them think what they wanted to think beyond that.”

“What’s he say about it?” Daryl asked.

Carol sucked in a breath and let it out.

“I came here to tell you. To talk to you. I came here to ask you to come back with me. You’ve been out here long enough, Daryl. If you don’t want to live with people, I understand that. If you want to keep your distance, I understand that, too. But let’s go back to the house. You’ll take Dog and—you’ll make the house your own. You’ll have some privacy, but you can still come and go as you please among the communities.” 

“And you?” Daryl asked. “You’ll be with him?” 

“I thought you might tell me that,” Carol said. She shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you might tell me anything. What you think. What you want. If you don’t want—this baby? If you don’t want—me? The responsibility that comes with? I’ll understand. It’s a lot. And it’s unexpected. Believe me. I know. I’m not sure I believe it yet. So if you don’t want it—I’ll understand. And Ezekiel will let me keep my home in the Kingdom and the baby—he’ll raise it as his own. Just like he’s done with Henry. If that’s what you want, Daryl.” 

“King’ll just—raise my kid like it was his own?” Daryl asked.

“If that’s what you want,” Carol said.

“What do you want?” Daryl asked.

“The same thing I’ve wanted for a very long time,” Carol said.

“Which is?” Daryl asked.

“You to tell me what you want, Daryl,” Carol said. She turned and walked away from him. She sat down on the stump where she’d sat before and reached her hands toward the fire to warm them. She glanced around, but she could see no sign of Henry in the surrounding trees. She hoped he had gone now to the traps so that he might return with meat in time for them to cook it before the rain came and put out their fire. She hoped he would have seen, by now, that Daryl wasn’t going to threaten her. “I’ve told you before, Daryl, about my feelings. I’ve told you—how I feel. You’ve told me what you don’t want. I guess—I want to know what you do want.”

“And if I say I don’t—want it?” Daryl asked.

“Then I go back to the Kingdom,” Carol said. “And—I would still hope that you would come and live at the house. It’s too much for you to live out here. You can’t do this forever.”

“That what you want me to say?” Daryl asked. “That I don’t want it so you can go back to the Kingdom?” 

“I want you to say what you mean,” Carol said. “I’ll deal with it, whatever you say, but I want to know that you mean it.”

“The Kingdom is safe,” Daryl said. “Protected. Got guards and good fences.”

“It’s as vulnerable as everywhere else to the right people at the right time,” Carol said. “Don’t try to keep me safe, Daryl. There’s time for that—and I’m not interested in that right now. I just want to know what you want. What do you plan to do?”

“Where you gonna be?” Daryl asked.

“Wherever you want me to be,” Carol said. “Wherever you decide I should be. I guess that’s why I’m here. If—if I’m carrying a baby? Well—I am carrying a baby. If I’m going to have a baby? I need to think about that, Daryl. I have to think about that. I can’t—go back and forth. So whatever you decide? It’s what you decide. You know?” 

Daryl considered it—or rather he contemplated the ground.

“We’ll leave in the mornin’ for the house,” he said. Carol nodded her acceptance. “And then—I’ll do my best to stay there. Pack my things tonight.”

Carol smiled to herself. 

“Whatever you need to make you comfortable there...we’ll find it,” Carol said. Daryl nodded his head. “Is that—what you want to do?” 

“It’s what I gotta do,” Daryl said. “Like you said—you gonna have a baby an’ all, you can’t go traipsin’ back and forth. Gotta settle somewhere.”

“The house is a lot closer to the Kingdom,” Carol said.

“It’ll be good when Henry wants to visit,” Daryl said. “Or—I don’t know how it’ll all work, but it’ll be good. Better’n out here. Close enough for—when you wanna go visit. See your people. His Majesty. But—safer’n out here.”

Carol’s heart leapt around in her chest. She held her emotions under control, though.

“Does that mean you—don’t think I should live in the Kingdom?” Carol asked.

Daryl shook his head at her. 

“I ain’t livin’ in that house alone, Carol,” he said.

Carol swallowed against the feelings that were threatening to choke off her air. 

“I know you’ll take Dog with you,” Carol said.

“I weren’t talkin ‘about the dog.”


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

Just a warning, I had to change the rating on this one. Sexual situations to follow.

I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Henry had returned with four rabbits—more than enough for a feast for three people and one dog. 

Daryl had insisted on skinning the rabbits and preparing the food. He’d given Henry the task of using the tarps and blankets out of the back of the wagon to make sure that the tents would be dry if the rain came. The tarps, in particular, spread out in the bottom of the tents would help a little with the seepage that would come up from the ground.

Henry hadn’t argued with Daryl’s instructions, and he hadn’t argued, either, when Daryl had mentioned in passing that they would be striking out for the house the next morning—just as soon as they’d had the opportunity. Henry hadn’t said anything about it at all until he was in the larger tent with Carol and she was helping him arrange the tarps and blankets.

“I guess you told him,” Henry said.

“I did,” Carol said. “He could see it well enough, though, so I don’t think I could have kept it a secret for long.”

“Is the baby big?” Henry asked. “Or are you just...small?” 

Carol laughed to herself. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess we’ll say—maybe it’s a bit of both.”

“It worries Dad,” Henry said. “I heard him say it to Jerry.” 

Carol nodded her head. 

“And it’ll probably worry Daryl,” Carol said. “Men—sometimes don’t know what to worry about. The ones that want to worry, I mean. And so they find something that they think they can fix. And they try to fix it. It’s a way to show love. Just like—you wanted to hang around the camp in case I needed you to fix something with Daryl.”

She could see on Henry’s face that she’d guessed correctly. He looked a little sheepish.

“He did get angry,” Henry said.

“He won’t hurt me,” Carol said. She reached for Henry and he came toward her and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the embrace before she planted a kiss on the side of his head. “I promise. I’m not afraid of Daryl. He won’t hurt me. He might—yell. And he might—disappear. But he’s not going to hurt me. Not physically. And I appreciate your trying to protect me, but that’s not your job. It’s my job to protect you.” 

“I want to take care of you, too,” Henry said. 

“You do,” Carol assured him.

“The tarps are—for you?” Henry asked.

Carol laughed to herself. 

“And the blankets,” Carol said. “Apparently I’m more susceptible to cold and damp now than I ever have been before.”

“Daryl’s idea?” Henry asked.

“Sort of,” Carol said. “My idea to hold off some of his worry until we can get to the house tomorrow.”

“It’s probably better,” Henry said. “Dad was worried about the cold, too. He worried it would make you—make you sick again. The rain.”

“Everyone worries about the same things,” Carol said. “Still—whether the cold or the rain is bad for me, we’re all going to be warm and dry tonight. I’m leaving these extra blankets in your tent for you. We’ll have body heat. You won’t. But if you get cold—and I mean this—if you get too cold? You come and tell me.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Henry said with some laughter.

Carol pulled him to her and kissed the side of his head again. She smiled to herself when she felt the warm pressure of him pressing his hand to her belly. 

“Still there?” She asked. 

Henry affectionately rubbed her belly. 

“You haven’t said if you want a boy or a girl,” Henry said. 

“I’ve had both,” Carol said. “And—I’ve loved both. Both are—wonderful. So whatever I get? I won’t mind either way. The only thing I ask is that it’s strong and it’s healthy and—that’s it. It’s strong and it’s healthy.” She smiled at Henry. “You never said if you wanted a brother or a sister.”

“Doesn’t matter either way,” Henry said. “Honestly? I just want what you want. I want you to be happy.” 

“Well, I am that,” Carol assured him. 

“Will he stay?” Henry asked.

“Will who stay?” Carol asked.

“At the house,” Henry said. “Will Daryl stay?” 

Carol nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah. He’d rather stay there than—come back to the Kingdom. And I think, maybe, that’s for the best. It’s close to the Kingdom, but...”

“But it’s not as weird,” Henry said.

“I guess you could say that,” Carol said.

“What about Dad?” Henry asked.

Carol hummed at him.

“Your father and I will speak to the Kingdom,” Carol said. “I’ll continue to help him rule from—from outside the Kingdom.”

“And you won’t be married anymore,” Henry said. 

Carol shook her head. 

“We won’t,” she said. “I understand if—you need to take some time to deal with that.” 

“He’ll still love you,” Henry said. 

Carol nodded and smiled to herself. 

“And I’ll still love him,” she assured Henry. “There are lots of different kinds of love, Henry. You’ll learn that even more as you grown. The love I have for your father is very, very different than the love I have for Daryl—but it doesn’t make it any less valuable. Love is always important. And it’s always beautiful.” 

“Will I be able to—visit you?” Henry asked.

“Oh—sweetheart,” Carol said, “my home is always your home. You can stay with me as much as you like. Daryl is never going to tell you that you can’t.” 

“I want to be there—when the baby comes,” Henry said. 

Carol nodded at him. 

“You can be,” she said. “But—you may not want to be. Or—maybe you may not want to be entirely there. We have time to talk about that, though. The baby isn’t coming tonight or anytime soon. Come on. We need to get your tent ready before the rain starts. Help me up. I may not be as young as I used to be.” 

Henry did help Carol up. He was happy about being able to offer her help in any capacity.

“We’ll blame it on the baby,” he said. 

Carol laughed to herself. She brushed her fingers over the bump that Henry had so loving caressed earlier.

“You’re right. We’ll blame it on the baby and not at all on my old knees,” Carol said. “Come on. I don’t want you getting cold tonight. Everyone’s worried about me and—I’m really just worried about you.” 

Henry laughed.

“You always are,” he teased. “But I’ve got six blankets here, Mom, I think I’m going to be fine.”

“Don’t you tell me not to worry,” Carol teased. “I’ll worry if I want to. It’s a mother’s prerogative. And as long as I’m pregnant—I get to do what I want.” 

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol was so full that she’d spent at least an hour after she’d eaten just sitting and praying silently that her food settled and didn’t insist on coming up again. Henry and Daryl had both pushed food at her until she’d eaten more in one meal than she’d eaten in most of the meals, combined, that she’d consumed since she’d gotten sick.

She was feeling settled, now, and content. The uncomfortable fullness had passed. 

Outside, the rain was pouring down just as Daryl had predicted, but they were warm in the tent. The small camping lantern flickered at the side of the tent to keep them from being in absolute darkness. Daryl watched her as she peeled out of some of the excess pieces of clothing that she was wearing so that she could be comfortable enough to sleep. She burrowed her way out of her pants and took the washrag to rinse herself off with the water that he’d brought into the tent in a small bowl. 

He called the baths “whore baths” and claimed they were mostly for hitting the high spots. He wasn’t wrong, but it did the trick. Daryl had already washed off, and he was under the cover.

“You ain’t gonna be cold?” He asked when Carol didn’t put her pants back on. 

“What do you have on under there?” Carol asked. 

“Nothin’,” Daryl admitted.

“Are you cold?” Carol asked. 

“No,” Daryl said.

“Me either,” Carol said. “In fact—I have to admit that I’m feeling a little bit like a furnace these days.”

“You done?” Daryl asked.

“Yeah,” Carol said.

“Blow out the lamp?” He asked. She did what he asked her to do, and then she sat still a moment while her eyes adjusted. She felt Daryl’s hand searching her out and, as soon as she took his hand, he tugged at her to lead her to where he was lying.

Daryl raised the side of the blanket and Carol moved around to slide under it. She slipped next to him and rested her head over his arm. He pulled her in closer to him and she gave him the kiss that he requested. 

It felt good to be next to him again. It had been a long time—longer than she liked for it to be. She fought against the fast beating of her heart when her brain reminded her that, if he didn’t change his mind in the morning, Daryl would be going to the little house. He’d be going there to stay. And Carol would be joining him.

And it almost made her dizzy, but she didn’t want to scare him. 

When his hand found her breast and massaged it, she moaned into his mouth. Her breasts were sore and tender, but she didn’t want to discourage him, so she didn’t say anything. She held her breath and bit her lip to swallow back her desire to protest his accidentally rough treatment of tissue he didn’t know was more tender than usual. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered to him.

“Gentle,” she said softly. “Please. It’s so good...but gentle.” 

She kissed him and he softened his touch.

“Better?” He asked when their lips broke apart.

“Mmmm hmm,” she hummed at him. She allowed her hands to trail over his body and she let her fingertips trace the familiar curves of his muscles and the soft skin of his scars. 

He slipped his hand down and Carol felt his fingers slide from her breasts over the swell of her stomach. His warm hand stopped, palm flat, on her belly.

“Say something,” she urged after a moment of stillness and silence.

“Mine?” He asked. 

“Yours,” Carol assured him. She covered his hand with her own.

“You sure?” He asked.

“Couldn’t be more positive,” Carol assured him. 

“Does it—move yet?” Daryl asked.

Carol laughed quietly. 

“I’m sure it does,” she said. “But—I can’t feel it. So you can’t either. Not yet.” Daryl was quiet for a moment. “I understand if you—don’t want to come back with me, Daryl. I do. But I wanted you to know about it. I wanted you to—just know. But even if you don’t, Daryl, I need you to know that I do want this baby. And, if I can, I’m going to have it.” 

“Want you to have it,” Daryl said. “If that’s what you want.”

“If you want to stay,” Carol said. “If you don’t want this...all of this. The commitment...”

Daryl slipped his hand out from under hers. He trailed it farther down. When he found her nub, he pressed it. Rubbed it beneath his fingertips. Carol sucked in a breath. Daryl continued to rub her. His lips sought hers and she panted into his mouth as he worked her carefully according to what he’d learned from her in the past. He’d learned that spot, in particular, got her attention. 

“Mine,” he said when their lips pulled away. This time it wasn’t a question. It was a statement—strong and clear and with just enough force behind it that Carol understood he wanted her to confirm that she understood what he was saying.

She did understand. 

“Yours,” she breathed out. 

In the darkness, Daryl shifted. Immediately, he was over her. He spread her legs apart. He must have been as blind as she was, but she felt him searching her out. She felt when he found what he was looking for. When his fingers found her and his tongue followed. She closed her eyes and let her mind explode with all the sensations that his sucking and lapping brought. 

He would tell her he was no good at sex—and maybe she was no good at it either and so she knew no different—but she thought he was wonderful. 

Her body was already shaking, rocked by one explosion of pure bliss that had stunned her senses for a second, when he took his position above her and pressed against her. She spread her legs a bit more to more comfortably accommodate him.

“Stop?” He asked.

“No,” she breathed out. “Please. No.” 

Daryl accepted her invitation and he pressed into her. Carol let him have everything, from that moment, just as he wanted it. She moved her hips when she didn’t feel they were practically pinned to the hard ground, and she accepted the speed and strength of Daryl’s thrusts as they most suited him. He offered her his mouth and she swallowed up the satisfied noises that escaped him as he finally stilled upon finding his release. 

He stayed where he was for a moment until he finally slipped free from her body. Carol would cuddle with him. She would enjoy the afterglow. He would fall asleep quickly, because he always did, and she would leave the blankets long enough to reliever herself in the bucket he’d brought in and tucked in the corner, and to wipe away what he had left behind—the same as she had, no doubt, the night they’d conceived the little one she now carried.

Her body felt satisfyingly sore after the encounter. Muscles had performed movements and adjustments that they hadn’t made in some time. She would sleep well, still feeling his presence in more ways than one.

When Daryl settled down next to her, he pulled her over to him and kissed her mouth again before he kissed the side of her face.

“We’ll leave for the house in the morning,” Daryl said. 

Carol swallowed. She smiled to herself and accepted his answer on the matter.

“You’re sure?” She asked.

“Positive,” Daryl responded. 

“I’m glad,” she said. 

He kissed the side of her face again.

“Mine,” he said once more. This time it came out with more reverence than it had the time before.

“Yours,” Carol said.

“You’re sure?” Daryl asked. 

Carol smiled to herself. 

“Positive,” she assured him.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

Thank you to those who prodded me to get back to this one! 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Henry helped Daryl unload the wagon in virtual silence. There was a heaviness that came from things that needed to be said between them, but neither of them was ready to be the first to speak, so they kept themselves busy with their work and let the words wait as words would. The only words that they bothered to exchange were the ones that were absolutely necessary to identify the desired location of some item or another that was being unloaded. 

At the Kingdom, Carol had exchanged a few words with Ezekiel—the man who called himself the king and, for years, had called himself Carol’s husband. She and Ezekiel had, essentially, publicly dissolved their marriage with a speech to the people of the Kingdom which mostly involved Ezekiel speaking in some Shakespearean language—which Daryl was sure that most of the people probably didn’t understand—while Carol stood beside him as a source of strength and support. 

The only part of the whole thing that Carol even bothered to clarify at all was that there was absolutely no bad blood between she and Ezekiel. She assured the people of the Kingdom that she would still continue to help rule the Kingdom, and she would be there to help them when they needed her, even though she would be residing outside the Kingdom’s fences in a place that everyone simply knew as “Carol’s House.” 

Daryl almost didn’t want to take her outside of the fences. He had most liked that she was with Ezekiel because he felt like the Kingdom—behind its guarded fences and gates—was one of the safest places she could be. Her status as queen, as well, would mean that the Kingdom guards would protect her with everything they had in them. 

Daryl loved her enough that he was willing, without hesitation, to let another man love her to be sure that she was properly cared for and protected.

He hated, even now, to take her somewhere where he knew she wasn’t as safe as she had been in the Kingdom. When she visited him in his camp, and during the few nights that they’d spent together at the little house throughout the years, he’d barely slept for the need to be sure that she remained safe through the night—until he could get her back behind the walls that he trusted to protect her from everything that he wasn’t sure humans, alone, could shield her from. Now he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep her safe for however long they ended up calling the little house home. 

The little house, at least, was somewhat protected from Walkers by some decently strong fences. They’d been reinforced by Ezekiel’s merry men, and Daryl had fully supported the practice, when he’d become aware that the older fences around the little house were beginning to decay and wouldn’t hold strong for long. Despite its protection from Walkers, though, the little house was pretty open to attack by people who were smart enough to get over and around fences without simply having to try to go through them. They all knew that people were the real threat these days. Walkers were only a nuisance in the face of what they’d seen when dealing with others who dared to call themselves human.

Daryl didn’t have any reason to leave the little house once everything had been brought into it off the wagon. He had very few possessions in the world and everything he had was on the back of the wagon. He didn’t have anywhere to go or anything he needed to do. The farthest he might go was to the Kingdom if Carol needed something from there, or to the woods surrounding the little house to hunt meat to smoke in the smokehouse he intended to build as soon as they were settled. 

Daryl had no reason to leave Carol alone and unprotected for any span of time, but, if he did, he’d already decided that he would take her back to the Kingdom. 

Daryl didn’t doubt in the least that Carol could protect herself. She was more capable than most of the men that had surrounded her since the world went to shit. In many ways, she was more equipped for survival in this world than even Daryl. She didn’t need him to hold her hand and keep the bad guys away any more than she’d needed Ezekiel and his armed soldiers to hold the world at bay. She would be sure to tell him that, too, if he insisted that she did.

But everybody needed a little help sometimes and Carol wasn’t too proud to accept the protection and care that was offered to her with the understanding that it was help and not something she couldn’t do without. She let Ezekiel protect her—especially when Daryl made it a personal request as well—and she let Daryl protect her. 

She understood, without him having to spell it out for her in so many words that he would have found difficult to string together, that his need to protect her was more about him than it was about her. 

And now, the heavy feeling in his gut that he got when he thought about her being somewhere, exposed to the seemingly incessant cruelty of this world, was even heavier—and he had barely even begun to believe that the extra weight she carried was evidence of his child.

“That’s the last of it,” Henry said, putting down one of the boxes of Carol’s things that she’d brought from the Kingdom.

“That’s your Ma’s,” Daryl said. 

“You wanted it somewhere else?” Henry asked.

“She prob’ly wants it in there,” Daryl said. “In the bedroom.”

“Never mind,” Carol said, coming out of the kitchen. She carried a glass in each hand. “We’ll get it later. Come drink some water, Henry. Daryl. You’re both sweating and you don’t want to get dehydrated. Dinner won’t be a feast. The cabinets are a little low. But it’ll keep us all from starving tonight.” Carol offered Daryl and Henry both a glass of water. Henry drained half of his and wiped his mouth with his arm before Daryl had even fully registered that he should consume the liquid. Henry put the glass down on the piece of furniture next to him like he might return to it in a moment and drain it entirely. 

“I’ll bring you some food from the Kingdom tomorrow,” Henry said.

“You don’t have to do that,” Carol said.

“We can get our own food,” Daryl said.

“Dad’s going to insist,” Henry said. “We’ve got plenty and there’s nowhere else out here where you’re going to get fruit and vegetables before winter.”

“We could go on a run,” Carol said. 

“We’ve cleared towns up to thirty miles away,” Henry said.

“Then we’ll go forty,” Carol said with a smirk. 

“We ain’t doin’ no such thing,” Daryl interrupted quickly. Carol looked at him and he shook his head. “We’ll take the food. We appreciate it. Got some things to get set up around here to get the house ready to withstand the winter an’ we don’t got the resources to go days in either direction just looking for food if there’s food to be had at the Kingdom.”

“It’s not the Kingdom’s responsibility to feed us,” Carol said. 

“You heard Dad,” Henry said. “You’re still the queen and—well—I’m still the prince. That’s still my…brother or sister.” He glanced at Daryl. Daryl’s stomach twisted. He suddenly understood it all. He felt it all. He felt the anxiety that was practically palpable as it radiated out of Henry. “Unless—you’ve changed your mind about that, too.”

Daryl’s chest ached at the words and Daryl knew that, even though Henry was clearly having to come to terms with a great deal, he couldn’t have hurt Carol more if he’d hit her in the face with the fire poker. 

She frowned deeply and swallowed. She stepped toward Henry and immediately pulled him into the tightest hug that she could. 

“Don’t you say that,” she said, some bite behind her words. “I don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again. You understand? You know that—I’d never change my mind about you. Never. I can’t. You’re my son—my—you’re my Henry. And I’m your Mom—if you haven’t changed your mind about me.”

Having the accusation somewhat turned around on him must have struck Henry. He squeezed Carol. She wobbled with him and, for a moment, Daryl instinctively reached his hand out to touch her arm and steady her in case they were both at risk of toppling to the floor. 

“I love you,” Henry declared, his voice muffled by the fact that he’d buried his face in the crook of Carol’s neck.

“I love you,” Carol said. She pushed him away just enough to kiss the side of his face and Daryl saw the dragon tears dropping out of her eyes when she blinked. “And—don’t you ever, ever, let me hear you say something like that again. I’ll love you forever.”

“And Dad?” Henry asked.

“I’ll love him forever, too,” Carol said. “Just like I told you. Like I told him. There are lots of different ways to love, Henry. Even Daryl knows that.” 

Henry pulled away from his mother enough to half-glare at Daryl. Daryl didn’t hold it against the boy. He imagined that all of this was a bit of a shock and an adjustment to him. Daryl couldn’t imagine how he would have felt in Henry’s place—mostly because his own mother had been gone by then and his old man had never meant that much to him anyway. 

And unlike Henry—who had been orphaned—there hadn’t been anybody who’d been looking to adopt Daryl and give him the kind of love and support that Carol and Ezekiel offered Henry. 

Henry meant the world to Carol and that meant that Daryl would do anything for him. He hadn’t been able to save Sophia for her. Sophia had been lost and he hadn’t been able to get her back for Carol.

He wouldn’t let her lose Henry and, if he had any control at all over such a thing, he wouldn’t let her lose the baby she carried, either—not even if it had been Ezekiel’s child. 

“Your Ma ain’t lyin’,” Daryl offered. “She loves your Dad. Just different, I guess.”

“Just different,” Carol said with a sigh. 

“Like a friend?” Henry asked.

“Like a very good friend,” Carol assured him. She reached out and smoothed his hair like he was a small boy instead of an almost grown man. He allowed her the affection. “And I love you like a son and I love—I already love this baby. Like my baby. And I love Daryl…” She stopped and looked at Daryl. She stared at him, hard. He might have worried that she didn’t know what to say. He might have worried that she wasn’t sure how she loved him. But that wasn’t how she was looking at him. She was looking at him like she was afraid. For a moment, Daryl might have sworn that Henry resembled her. He’d seen that face only recently. She was looking at him like she feared that he might just disappear. She looked like she feared that the wrong words—or even saying them out loud—might send Daryl running out the door of the little house to disappear into the woods forever.

He nodded, gently, to give her encouragement and to let her know he wasn’t going anywhere. As surely as she would remain a fixture in Henry’s life, he would remain in her life—even if he hadn’t exactly told her that before. There was even more, now, that bound them together.

“Go ahead,” Daryl said softly.

Carol nodded her understanding and a few more of the over-sized dragon tears dropped from her eyes as she smoothed Henry’s hair under her palm again. 

“I love Daryl like something else entirely,” Carol said. 

“More than a friend?” Henry supplied.

Carol laughed to herself.

“Like much more than a friend,” Carol said. “And I’m sorry that hurts you.”

“It doesn’t,” Henry said. “Not really.” He hesitated a moment. “It won’t. I want you to be happy.” 

“Then we got somethin’ in common,” Daryl offered. “Maybe a couple things.”

“And this is your brother or sister,” Carol said. “Always.”

Daryl nodded his head slightly when Henry looked at him.

“And this is your house,” Carol said. “I meant what I said. You can stay whenever you like. You can stay tonight.” 

“I need to get the wagon back,” Henry said. “And the horses.”

Carol frowned and nodded her head. 

“Tomorrow night, then,” Carol said.

“I think—I need to stay with Dad for a while,” Henry said. “In the Kingdom.”

“I understand,” Carol offered. Daryl wasn’t sure if she really did or if she was just saying that for the benefit of the boy.

“But—I’ll bring you food,” Henry said. “Tomorrow. In the morning. Promise you’ll take it.”

Carol caught his face and turned it so that she could kiss his cheek again. 

“I’ll take it,” she said. “But—if you’re leaving, you better go on now. I don’t want you out in the woods after dark. You understand?” 

Daryl watched her as she pushed Henry toward the door. He listened to her as she half-heartedly scolded the boy about staying up too late and declared she loved him again just after the sharp flick of the reins. Daryl took the glass that Henry had used and his own to the kitchen. 

He would be there to listen, too, when Carol came back and was ready to talk.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

“He can stay as much as he wants,” Daryl said. “That room—what the hell’s it for if it isn’t for Henry to stay there? He can move in if he wants.”

Daryl hadn’t really thought about Henry living with them. He hadn’t really thought about them living together, honestly. It was all happening very quickly and very much without him having had a lot of time to think about any of it. 

But as soon as Carol had sat down on the couch, with tears streaming down her face that she was trying to mop up with her palms, Daryl hadn’t had to think much at all before he’d decided that he’d give her whatever she wanted—he’d give her anything to take that sadness away.

When he sat down beside her, she’d curled into him and practically folded herself up in his lap. He was happy to hold her, there, until she felt she could rise from her position. He was happy to listen to her as she poured out her feelings—feelings that she declared were probably crazy and unfounded.

Because he knew, and he remembered, everything she’d told him. He remembered the tearful confessions in his tent. He remembered holding her while she fought with her nightmares like she was fighting demon possession. 

And if she felt afraid that she might lose again, he wanted to comfort her until she felt better.

“He’ll stay with Ezekiel to protect him,” Carol breathed out. “He feels like he has to. Like he can. To take care of him. To care for him. Because I hurt him and Henry might not forgive me for that.”

“He’s got nothin’ to forgive you for,” Daryl said. “You ain’t been nothin’ but honest with—with Ezekiel. Right? The whole damn time.”

“But I wasn’t honest with Henry,” Carol said.

“And he’s gonna get over that,” Daryl said. “You ain’t never done a thing to hurt him. Never. Not once. He’s gonna get over the fact that he’s got some hurt feelings ‘cause things weren’t exactly what he thought.” 

“He was fine while we were going to your camp,” Carol said. “He was fine—after we talked to him. Ezekiel and I talked to him and he said he understood.” 

Daryl rubbed his hands over Carol’s arms and held her close to him. Her tears were slowing down. She was calming. And he found the weight of her bearing down on him strangely soothing. He would stay there all night if that was what she wanted. 

“Maybe it was just—seein’ us in the house,” Daryl said. “You know? Seein’ it. Like it’s all different an’ he can see it for the first time. But he loves you and that ain’t gonna change. You’re his mom. You heard him. He’s gonna be here tomorrow. Bright and early in the morning, probably. And when he comes, you just remind him that he can stay when he wants. Whenever that is.”

“He might believe it more if—you were to say it,” Carol said. “Really—say it and mean it?” 

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “Yeah. Sure thing. He comes and—I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him. He’s welcome here when he wants to come. He can stay—long as he wants.” 

“Thank you,” Carol said softly. She rubbed her face against his chest. She probably dried her tears and snot on his chest. He didn’t mind one way or another. “Thank you,” she repeated.

“Yeah—any time,” Daryl said. “Anything.”

Carol drew in a deep breath and she sighed, blowing it out. She relaxed deeper into Daryl, if that were possible, and Daryl rubbed her arm again.

“You feelin’ better?” Daryl asked. 

“I just—don’t want to lose anyone anymore,” Carol said. 

Daryl hummed at her. 

“And you ain’t,” he assured her. “Ain’t—ain’t nobody going anywhere. Not me or Henry or…hell even Ezekiel. Told him that even he weren’t goin’ nowhere. Dog over there—he’s in it for the long haul. Furry bastard’s happy as shit to be a house dog.”

At mention of his name, Dog lifted his head and his tail thumped loudly on the floor. He was clearly content with his new situation. 

Daryl waited until he was pretty sure that Carol had calmed. He waited until she was quiet and content. Then he patted her hip where he could reach it. 

“You said they was food in them cabinets?” He asked.

“Vegetables,” Carol said. 

“Wood in that stove your king found you?” Daryl asked.

“Stop,” Carol said, sitting up. She smiled at him, though. 

Ezekiel had sent scouts out scouring the area for a wood stove. One of the last times that he’d been in the little house visiting Carol, she’d been so excited to show him the stove that he’d joking told her he was afraid that he was losing her to Ezekiel forever. It seemed the King had found a way to speak directly to Carol’s heart. He’d given her a quiet place to run away with a pump out back and wood-burning stove. 

“Giving you a hard time,” Daryl said. “But—you ain’t eat since breakfast. And I know you like your meals regular. His highness got you spoiled like that. Let me know if I need to grab you some wood while I’m pumpin’ a couple buckets of water and snaggin’ us a lil’ meat for tonight’s table.”

“It’s late,” Carol said. 

“And squirrels are all over the damned yard,” Daryl told her. “I won’t go nowhere. Just—do you need wood?” 

“The wood box is full,” Carol assured him. 

“Then you start warmin’ up them vegetables,” Daryl said. “If you OK to do that?” 

“I’m fine,” Carol assured him. He nodded his understanding that she was telling him the truth. She’d needed to get some of it out, and she’d needed to seek a little reassurance, but she was doing better. 

“Then you start warmin’ up them vegetables,” Daryl repeated. “And I’ma be back in a few minutes with the rest of dinner.”

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The two oil lamps lit up the bedroom brightly enough that Daryl might have been convinced it was daylight. He wasn’t accustomed to that much light at night. Still, it was a soft and flattering light because Carol looked beautiful in it. She looked beautiful in any light.

And Daryl was still wrapping his mind around the fact that this wasn’t just a night or two. Not only was she not heading back to the Kingdom and was he not heading back to his now-dismantled camp, but Carol would probably feel betrayed and truly abandoned if he were to even suggest such a parting. 

He’d lied awake more nights than he could count and thought about what it might be like if he lived an honest kind of life with Carol—the kind of life that maybe didn’t even exist anymore—where they were some sitcom kind of couple with absolutely no problems that they couldn’t overcome together. 

His stomach ached with the strange mixture of anxiety and calm that came in waves when he thought that, maybe, they were as headed for that as they ever could be. 

They were there together in the little house that they would call home, and Dog was sleeping just outside the bedroom door because he’d decided, on his own, that was where he wanted to sleep for the night. Things were already dropping into place.

Daryl had a straight view of the bathroom from the bed. He’d already washed off in the water warmed over the fire where Carol used to cook before she’d gotten a wood stove for the kitchen. Carol was in the bathroom, now, washing off by the light of another oil lamp.

Daryl watched her. His view of her was perfect.

He hadn’t seen her naked, quite that clearly, in a long time. 

She’d braided her hair back to keep it out of her face and it fell over her shoulder as she straightened up and dried off after her bath. Daryl watched her dry off and only called out to her when he saw her start to unfold the nightgown she’d taken into the bathroom.

“Leave it,” he said. 

“You don’t want me to put it on?” Carol asked.

“You gonna need it?” Daryl asked. “Because—I didn’t put nothin’ on.”

Carol did leave the nightgown. She blew out the bathroom lamp and walked to the foot of the bed. She unashamedly stood there, naked, with her hands on the brass bar at the bottom of the bed.

“Are you expecting something to happen?” She asked.

Daryl reached over and patted the mattress beside him. 

“Nothin’ you don’t want to happen,” he said. 

She left her spot at the foot of the bed and walked around to her side of the bed to stand there for a moment. She smiled at him. She let just her fingertips touch the side of the bed. He licked his lips and shifted around to sit up on his elbow.

“I haven’t seen you like this since the last time we were here,” Daryl said. 

“It’s been a while,” Carol said.

“Last time—it was cold,” Daryl said. “Had to sleep on the mattress on the floor in front of the fire.”

“Almost a year,” Carol said. “It’s getting cold again. It won’t be long before we might need to move to the living room to be warm.” 

Daryl reached and flicked the blanket back. Talking about preparing for the winter made his stomach flip a little. It made him think about how real it was. And even though he was already welcoming in the idea of an entirely different life—the kind he’d only dared to even dream about before—it still made him nervous to be facing it head-on. 

“We got blankets,” Daryl said. “And we’ll move the mattress when you’re ready. Don’t stand out there in the cold no longer than you got to, though.”

Carol smiled at him. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Because I’m not fully healed yet?” She asked.

“That,” Daryl agreed. “But—because you’re too damned skinny. I thought your king was feedin’ you but you really ain’t much more than bones. You prob’ly freezin’ to death.” 

Carol laughed to herself, but she did get into bed and slid under the cover. Rather than stay on her side, she immediately crossed the mattress and worked her way as close Daryl’s body as she could. He welcomed the closeness and somewhat curled around her to bring her in even a touch closer. He kissed her and she returned it.

“I’m not skinny,” she said. “I’m fat, remember?” 

Daryl slipped his hand down and found the swell of her belly. He rested his palm over it and he felt the muscles beneath her skin bunch. 

“Was that…?” He asked.

“Me,” Carol said softly. “It’s too soon for anything else. I think.”

“This ain’t fat,” Daryl said. “You ain’t fat. Couldn’t see it with—with the potato sacks you been wearin’.”

Carol laughed to herself.

“My clothes are comfortable,” Carol said. “But if you don’t like them…”

“You wear whatever you want,” Daryl said. “I’ma still—still think you…ya know…pretty an’ all in a potato sack. So, if that’s what’cha like…I don’t care.” 

Carol smiled at him. She nodded her head. 

“Maybe—sometime when we’re in the Kingdom or somewhere, you could go through the clothes,” Carol said. “Find something you’d like for me to wear.” 

“And you’d wear it?” Daryl asked. Carol nodded. “Anything I wanted?” 

“Well, at least—here,” Carol said. “In the house. For you. If you’d like.”

“I might like that,” Daryl agreed.

“But just remember—for a little while? Daryl—I’m going to get bigger before…before I have any hope of this going away and, at my age, I don’t really know how my body’s going to look. I mean—if I carry the baby to full term.” 

Daryl’s chest tightened at they way she said the words. Everything about the way she said them—all of them—tugged at him.

He kissed her, again, and shook his head at her when the kiss broke apart. He kept his hand resting gently over the swell of her stomach.

“It don’t matter what you look like now or…then,” Daryl said. “You gonna carry the baby to full term. We’re gonna keep it safe. You don’t gotta do it alone. And—no matter what you look like, I’ma think you’re beautiful.”

“Promise?” Carol asked.

Daryl smiled to himself at her expression. It was the most hopeful he’d seen her in a long time. For so long, life had beaten her down at every turn. He’d understood the feeling. She’d barely been able to find her feet before life took her down to the ground again.

But the ground was feeling a little more solid now and, even though there were some tremors, it wasn’t enough to rob her entirely of the hope that there was still some good in the world and she might be worthy of some of it—especially when so much of it seemed so well within reach.

“You got my word,” Daryl said. “For what it’s worth.”

“I can’t lose you, Daryl,” Carol offered quietly.

“You won’t never lose me,” Daryl assured her. “And if I got anything to do with it? You won’t lose nobody again.”

“It’s the first night of—the rest of our lives,” Carol offered. “Or is that—too cheesy?” 

Daryl laughed to himself.

“Perfect,” Daryl said. “Come here. Let’s start it off right.”


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl stepped outside the door with his cigarettes and lighter in one hand and his crossbow in the other. He put his bow down almost immediately, satisfied to simply have it outside the door in case it turned out that he needed it for something. Dog bounded out the door with him and proceeded down the steps to do his business in the yard. Daryl lit his cigarette before he surveyed his surroundings. He’d done little more than piss, pull on his pants and shirt, and shove his feet into his boots before he’d stepped out.

He nearly choked on his first good drag of the cigarette because Ezekiel was just letting himself through the gate. Daryl hadn’t heard the rig, so that meant that Ezekiel had been there, waiting for someone to wake up. 

“Too fuckin’ early, King,” Daryl called out, keeping his voice somewhat low. “When I said come around any time—I didn’t mean the ass crack of dawn.” 

“Carol’s still asleep?” Ezekiel asked, ignoring Daryl entirely as he crossed the yard toward the porch.

“Sleepin’ good,” Daryl said. “I won’t wake her up, neither, for anything short of an actual emergency.” 

“I don’t wish for you to wake her,” Ezekiel said. “I knew that it’s been her habit to sleep later these mornings since she became aware of the little one’s presence. At least—when the little one allows her to sleep.” 

Daryl’s stomach knotted in response to Ezekiel’s words.

There was no bite to them at all. There was no malice. He was simply stating fact as he knew it to be, and it was a reminder that Daryl had missed a lot of time with Carol. He had a lot of time to make up for.

“It was you that I was hoping to speak with,” Ezekiel said, unaware that Daryl was stewing over the fact that he’d woken up with Carol countless mornings when Daryl was only just beginning the habit. Daryl reminded himself, though, that it was him that Carol had chosen for the rest of her mornings—and that was really all that mattered.

“What is it?” Daryl asked.

“Carol has hardly been well since she learned that she was carrying the little one,” Ezekiel said.

“So, I heard,” Daryl said. 

“She expressed to me that she wants to do what she can to make sure that the child is healthy and thrives,” Ezekiel said.

“So far, we’re on the same page,” Daryl said.

“She’s also expressed that she’s terrified of the whole process,” Ezekiel said. “Carrying the child. Giving birth. Having a baby to raise in this world.”

“If you knew all the hell she’s seen,” Daryl said, “and all the hell that’s—well…that’s happened to her? You wouldn’t need her to tell you she was terrified. You’d just know that she’s gotta be.” 

“I’m not your enemy,” Ezekiel said blankly. “If anything—I share one very important thing in common with you, and that’s that I would give anything for Carol’s happiness. No matter how much it hurts me. But I am not your enemy, Daryl.” 

Daryl felt properly scolded, but he accepted that he probably deserved it. Rather than lash out at the man who pretended to be a king for some ongoing fantasy game he played with those who called themselves his subjects, Daryl nodded at him.

“You right,” Daryl said. “And—look—I’m sorry. About bein’ an asshole. But also, about how things, you know, turned out.”

Ezekiel offered him a smile.

“They turned out as I always knew they would,” Ezekiel said. “Perhaps, even, as I always hoped they would. I would rather lose Carol to her happiness forever than to hold her for eternity in misery.” 

“For what it’s worth,” Daryl offered. “I don’t think—she was never miserable when she was with you. If she had been? I wouldn’ta let her go back to the Kingdom.”

“Can we declare a truce, then?” Ezekiel asked.

“Had one already,” Daryl said. “Hell—it’s just too damn early. I ain’t awake yet and I don’t want to make coffee because the smell’ll wake her up.”

Ezekiel smiled. He winked at Daryl.

“Especially these days,” he offered. “If you don’t know it yet, her sense of smell is incredibly heightened.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Daryl said. “What’d you want to talk to me about. Or did you just come down here to draw up a truce?” 

“There’s a doctor at the Hilltop,” Ezekiel said. “A real doctor. He has equipment for—dealing with pregnancies. He has a machine to scan the baby and make sure that it’s healthy and everything’s growing as it should be.” Daryl’s stomach fluttered a little at the thought of all that. He didn’t interrupt Ezekiel, though, since he’d already interrupted the man a number of times and he thought he owed him the nicety of at least letting him finish. “I meant to take her to the Hilltop when she first learned that she was carrying the baby. Ironically, she fell ill before I could take her. She was too ill to risk taking her and—I honestly feared for the worst. I put it off because she believed, and I did too, that every day would be the last day that she would carry the baby. So, I never sent for the doctor to come to the Kingdom. She survived the illness, though, and it appears the baby did as well. I thought you might want to know that he’s there. He could offer peace of mind where so few of us really can.”

“Thanks,” Daryl said. “For real. I’ma talk to her. See if I can’t—get her to go.”

Ezekiel reached in his pocket and produced a folded-up piece of paper that he passed to Daryl.

“Take this,” he said. 

“What is it?” Daryl asked. 

“A royal invitation to the Kingdom,” Ezekiel said. “He knows me. We’ve met before. Invite him to come to the Kingdom. Invite him to bring his equipment and to stay until the Queen’s heir makes an appearance in the world.”

Daryl snorted. He stuffed the piece of paper into his own pocket without opening it up to read the Shakespearean bullshit that had, no doubt, been scratched onto the page with a peacock feather and some black paint. Daryl lit another cigarette for himself and blew the smoke away from Ezekiel so as to not alienate or irritate his new fine-spoken friend.

“Might not word it just that way,” Daryl said. “But—I’ll ask him to come back to the Kingdom. To be closer to Carol and all.”

“Tell him that he’ll be provided for,” Ezekiel said. “All his needs will be provided for.”

“I’ll let him know,” Daryl said. “And—thanks for letting me know about this. Carol hadn’t mentioned it. I’m sure she would have but…”

“Things have been quite busy,” Ezekiel finished.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “Listen—as long as we’re talking man-to man and all…there’s somethin’ else I kinda wanted to run by you.”

Ezekiel looked either pleased that they were talking like this, or amused that Daryl had something he wanted to discuss with him. Daryl wasn’t sure which, and he decided not to think too much about it. 

“Whatever you want to discuss,” Ezekiel said. “I’ve always got time for an audience with the Queen’s chosen suitor.”

Daryl frowned at him, but he left him alone. Everyone had their thing these days—whatever it was that got them out of bed—and if this was what Ezekiel needed to keep trudging through this world, then Daryl wasn’t going to try to make him stop. Besides, Daryl had all ideas that King Ezekiel, for all the cheery faces he would put on in public, probably felt about knee deep in shit at the moment. If spouting off like some kind of storybook character made him feel better, he might as well have that.

“It’s about Henry,” Daryl said. “He’s takin’ this pretty damn hard.”

“He’s dealing with the separation of his parents,” Ezekiel said. “Adopted or not, we’ve been his parents for some time now. To see us apart—it’s going to take him a few days to adjust.”

“I get that,” Daryl said. “I do. Totally understand it and I told Carol as much.”

“She’s not taking it well either,” Ezekiel offered, concern crossing across his brow.

“Not at all,” Daryl said. “Not the fact that Henry’s upset, at least. And it’s starting to dredge up some old memories.”

“And I assume they are not the kind that you wish to sit around reminiscing about.”

“Not in the damn slightest,” Daryl said. 

“Have the nightmares started again?” Ezekiel asked. “The ones where—she screams and doesn’t recognize anyone?” 

“Takes her at least ten minutes to come outta of each of ‘em good,” Daryl said. “She was up half the night with sweats from night terrors. She’s sick to death thinkin’ that Henry ain’t gonna forgive her an’ he’s never gonna come around again. He’s gonna stay with you ‘cause he thinks she’s a bitch or somethin’ that done you wrong.” 

“Is it fever?” Ezekiel asked. “She had horrible visions of things with the fevers.”

“No fever,” Daryl said. “Not yet. Nightmares. I know ‘em. I’ve seen ‘em before.”

“It’s been some time since she had nightmares without the fevers,” Ezekiel said.

“Well if they keep up and she don’t rest,” Daryl said, “then she’s gonna fall sick to fever again because her immune system’s gonna be shot from stress and exhaustion. She’s gotta get some peace—at least as much as I can create for her.” 

“It was a bad night,” Ezekiel said. There was more empathy there than Daryl expected. He felt it in the man’s words. There was absolutely no challenge there now. Daryl didn’t expect to feel oddly moved by the fact that Ezekiel truly sounded like he cared for Daryl’s plight. 

“Bad enough—I’d consider sending her back to the Kingdom if I thought that’d fix it. Just to let her be close to Henry,” Daryl said. He shook his head at Ezekiel. “She can’t do that. She can’t lose another kid. She don’t deserve it. And not over somethin’ as stupid as some hurt feelings.” 

“Henry is young,” Ezekiel said. “He’s nearly a man, but nearly a man is still a boy. And he loves his mother deeply. He’s rebelling. He’s angry, perhaps. He’s dealing with the shattering of—of an illusion.” 

“That’s just it,” Daryl said. “It’s an illusion. It’s some rebellion for him. But it’s the end of the world to her. I wanna talk to him. Ask him to come an’ stay. At least let him know he’s welcome here. See if—if he don’t want to stay long term if he won’t just—throw her a bone. A night here or there. Let her have a night, or somethin’, where she goes an’ pulls the blankets up around his neck like she even done while we was at the camp.”

“Henry may want to act out,” Ezekiel said with a hint of a smile, “but he doesn’t want to truly hurt Carol. If he realized that she’d lost even a few hours of sleep—or that the nightmares were returning—he would do whatever he could to soothe her. At the moment, perhaps he feels he needs to pick a side. And since I am still where he knows me to belong, perhaps that’s why he’s chosen that side.”

“He thinks she betrayed you,” Daryl said. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Ezekiel said. “Again. And—you should talk to him.” For just a moment, Daryl saw it. He saw the relaxation as it reached the muscles of Ezekiel’s face. He saw the exact moment that the man put down his guard and dropped his act for just a second. “Daryl—at this point in his life, Carol is Henry’s greatest love. When you speak to him, make sure that he knows that Carol is your greatest love, too. That’s a language he’ll understand. And I know she must be—because just like you would have never let her return to the Kingdom if she were miserable there, I would have never let her go if I weren’t certain she was going to arms where she would find the greatest love.” 

Daryl nodded his understanding. He understood, too, that there was nothing else that needed to be said about the subject, at least not for the time being. 

“I appreciate you talkin’ to him,” Daryl said. “I’ll talk to him, too. And I’ma see if I can’t get Carol ready to leave for the Hilltop as soon as possible.” 

“Go to the Hilltop today,” Ezekiel said. “The skies look clear. I’ll leave the wagon, so Carol can’t refuse. I’ll talk to Henry and, after you’ve returned, you can talk to him. He should be more receptive then.”

“Thanks,” Daryl said. “At least—let me take you back to the Kingdom in the wagon.”

Ezekiel smiled and shook his head. 

“It’s a nice morning,” Ezekiel said. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’ll appreciate the walk.” 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

AN: As I’ve said before, I haven’t watched the show for a while. I know there’s a doctor and such, but I know nothing about him, so I’m making my own up. That really goes for pretty much all the characters I may end up bringing into the story. I hope that’s not a problem! 

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl let Carol sleep a great deal since she seemed to have fallen into a pretty deep sleep with the coming of the morning. While she slept, he took Dog and set some traps in the woods for Walkers and some snares for meat. He shot a few squirrels and cleaned them—traipsing back and forth to the house throughout the whole process to make sure that, in his absence, Carol hadn’t woken and gotten concerned—and then he’d started a small fire in the fire pit outside where he could keep a close watch on the horses. Ezekiel had brought a box of food in the wagon—enough to get them through several days—and Daryl used that with what he had to start a breakfast that was damn near good enough for royalty, whether that royalty was imaginary or otherwise.

Daryl didn’t mean to wake Carol when he was pulling an extra blanket down from the shelf in the top of the closet, but he accepted that she should probably start to wake up since breakfast would be ready soon.

He’d given her a few minutes to get her boundaries before he’d taken her outside to a picnic breakfast and explained that the horses needed to be looked after while they waited for the trip to the Hilltop that they’d start just as soon as they were finished eating.

Carol might have tried to refuse the trip to Hilltop—whether it was because of what was going on with Henry or whether it was nerves that would make her do so, Daryl didn’t know—so Daryl was glad that Ezekiel had thought to leave the wagon there. It was an added push to tell Carol that there was no sense in refusing the trip. They’d have to take the wagon back to the Kingdom and, as long as they were getting on the wagon, they might as well use it to make the trip to the Hilltop.

The wagon was also proof that Ezekiel had been there and it gave credence to Daryl’s promise that Henry wasn’t really mad and was going to get over this little fit he was having—even Ezekiel said so, and he had most recently seen the boy. It backed up Daryl’s insistence, too, that Henry wasn’t going to come and wonder where they’d went, because Ezekiel was going to talk to him and, while he talked to him, he’d be sure to let him know that they were away for a day or two.

When they’d finished breakfast, of which Daryl thought Carol ate more than a satisfactory amount, and they’d let Dog have what he wanted of the scraps, Daryl made sure the fire was out while Carol packed a small bag for them both. As soon as the wagon was loaded, and Dog was happily riding in the back for the first leg of the journey, Daryl had flicked the reins and they were off.

The best feeling that Daryl didn’t expect was when Carol got as close to him as their bodied would allow and leaned her head against his shoulder. He shifted the reins to one hand, since there was little that needed to be done with the reins until their next turn, and he put an arm around her shoulder before he leaned his face lightly against the top of her head.

“You—wanna talk about it?” Daryl asked.

“About what?” Carol asked.

Daryl laughed to himself.

“Anything,” he said. “Absolutely anything that’s on your mind.”

“There’s more on my mind than you want to hear,” Carol said with a sigh.

“We’ve got a long way to Hilltop,” Daryl pointed out.

“You might get tired of hearing it,” Carol said.

“If you keep feeling it,” Daryl offered, “I’ll keep hearing it.”

Carol snuggled into him and Daryl wondered, for a moment, if she might actually be considering going back to sleep.

“I hate that we just got—to our house,” Carol said. “That it just became our house. And we’re leaving it.”

Daryl laughed to himself.

“For like—one night only,” he assured her. “And this is real important.”

“That’s another thing,” Carol said. “If I think about it too much, I feel sick. What if—something’s wrong?” 

“Then we deal with it,” Daryl said.

“You mean I deal with it,” Carol said. 

“No, I mean we deal with it,” Daryl said. “There ain’t no I no more, Carol. Isn’t that what this is all about? You and me and…this whole new life thing?”

“That is what it’s about,” Carol said. “But it’s me who…might not be able to do this. You’ve kind of done your part.”

She laughed quietly to herself and rubbed her face against Daryl’s shoulder.

“You talkin’ about the baby, right? Just—just so we’re clear?” 

“Mmm hmmm,” Carol hummed.

“Well if that’s all the hell I have to do with it, Carol, then…”

“What?” Carol asked after a moment. “What were you going to say?”

“I don’t know,” Daryl said. “That’s why I didn’t say it. Listen—I get it. The whole thing—havin’ the baby and all that? I get that it’s like a thousand times bigger deal for you than it is for me. But—I kinda like the idea of being involved. Havin’ some kinda role in all this.” 

“You can be as involved as you want to be,” Carol said.

“Not if you keep shoving me out, I can’t,” Daryl responded.

“I’m not shoving you out,” Carol said. “But if something happens, it’ll be my body that—couldn’t handle it.”

“Or—it could be me that give you defective shit to work with in the first place,” Daryl offered. “Let me just ask you one thing. Is this makin’ you feel better?” 

“No,” Carol admitted.

“Me either,” Daryl said. “Let’s try somethin’ else. Let’s say—you see this doctor and everything’s just great. Perfect. What are you hopin’ for?” 

“You mean—with the doctor?” Carol asked.

“Yeah,” Daryl said. He tried to sound as enthusiastic as he possibly could. At that moment, he would take anything. He’d listen to any list she wanted to give him as long as it was a list of hope and not the list of hopelessness that seemed to have started to form the night before. She’d been lighter at the camp than he’d seen her in a while—once she’d told him about the baby and he’d promised to come back with her and really make something together—and he wanted her to have that. He thought she could have that, if she could be reminded that there could be good things out there.

This was a new life, after all, for the both of them. They’d decided it. They’d claimed it and named it to be so. It might as well be a new life that came with some hope.

“Well…” Carol started. She paused.

“Go ahead,” Daryl said. “Everything’s perfect so…don’t think about what could be bad. What do you want most?” 

“I want the baby to be healthy,” Carol said. 

“Done,” Daryl said. “Perfect. So, you’re healthy, too. All the way.” 

Carol laughed quietly. Daryl rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her a little tighter against him in a hug. 

“I want—to see the baby,” Carol said. 

“Got a machine for that,” Daryl said. 

“Hear the heartbeat,” Carol said. 

“Can he do that?” Daryl asked.

“He should be able to,” Carol said. “With the machine or…or a stethoscope or something.” 

“Then we’ll do that, too,” Daryl said. 

“I wouldn’t mind—knowing what the baby is,” Carol said. “A boy or a girl.”

“He can do that with his machine?” 

“If it’s not too early,” Carol said. “I don’t know when it’s too early. I didn’t find out—with Sophia. I didn’t find out until she was born. I was too scared to know.” 

“We’ll find out,” Daryl said.

“Unless it’s too early,” Carol said.

“Then we’ll find out when it ain’t too early,” Daryl offered. “I got—in my back pocket? I got a royal invitation or declaration or whatever that asks him to come to the Kingdom. Bring all his stuff. Move for the duration or, at least, until the baby comes.” 

Carol sat up and twisted her neck like she might be trying to loosen up a knot there, but she didn’t put any distance between herself and Daryl. She stayed close enough to him that their bodies might be glued together and, if the temperature dropped anymore, they could easily share a blanket to keep warm. 

“He might not want to move,” Carol said.

“Then we’ll come back to Hilltop,” Daryl said. “Either way…what do you want?” 

“I told you what I want,” Carol said. “I don’t have too many more expectations for the exam. It’s a physical exam, Daryl.”

“Boy or girl, Carol,” Daryl said.

She laughed quietly.

“You tell me,” she said. “What do you want? Or—do you not want to know? We don’t have to know.”

“You want to know,” Daryl said. “And I don’t care. I mean—I’m going to know eventually so today’s as good a day as any.”

“Boy or girl?” Carol asked.

“You can’t go first?” Daryl asked.

“Boy or girl?” Carol repeated.

“You gonna—think I’m pissed off or disappointed or whatever if what I say isn’t what we get?” Daryl asked. “Because that ain’t the case. I’m kinda pickin’ here like…like you like two flavors of something and you’re picking which one you like best.” 

“Just because you like chocolate doesn’t mean you hate vanilla?” Carol asked. 

Daryl smiled to himself.

A week ago, he might have spent this hour of the day—the intoxicating hour when the sun was bright and the whole world almost seemed to be something that wasn’t quite real and the air was cool and fresh and felt clean—sitting on a stump feeling sorry for himself. He might have been stewing in his past miseries and convincing himself that life—at least his life—was a shitshow that was only getting progressively worse. He might have been suffocating under the weight on his chest that felt like an anvil—the same anvil that had been resting there for years.

The weight of that anvil had only ever even been lessened in the presence of one person. 

And now that person was sitting beside him, silently stealing his body warmth against the chill of the air stirred up by the moving wagon, with her hand resting affectionately on his thigh. That person was talking about a child that she carried—a child created between the two of them.

They were talking about forever together, hiding away from the world in a little house where they reached out from time to time but mostly kept their distance from the unnecessary drama created by others. 

Maybe it wasn’t too ridiculous that the good King Ezekiel lived in his make-believe castle when Daryl really thought about it.

Daryl realized that he was looking forward, after all, to his own fairytale in his quiet little enchanted home in the woods with the woman that he’d heard Ezekiel call, more than once, a faerie queen.

The first hints of true happiness felt good.

Daryl moved his arm from around Carol’s shoulders. He slipped a hand over and tentatively brushed his fingers against her stomach before dropping his hand to her thigh. 

“I like chocolate and vanilla,” Daryl said. “And I’d like a boy or a girl—as long as…you’re it’s mama.” 

“You aren’t going to tell me what you want?” Carol asked.

“No,” Daryl said. “Because then you’ll worry about it. You’ll say you won’t, but you will. And I don’t want you to worry about nothin’ else. Not today.”

He closed his eyes a split second to the satisfaction of her lips pressing warm against the side of his face. She nuzzled his ear and he shivered. 

“Then I’ll just hope you get what you want,” Carol said. 

“Then that’ll make two of us,” Daryl assured her.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl steered the wagon through the open gates and into the Hilltop. As they were entering, people were walking up. Some came simply to see who was arriving. The familiar faces, though, were coming because the lookouts already knew who was coming.

Daryl pulled back on the reins and stopped the horses as soon as they were far enough inside the gates to allow for the gates to be shut. Dog, who had run along beside them for the last leg of the journey, ran past the wagon and greeted a few familiar faces in the crowd before he disappeared in search of someone who might have some snack to offer him. 

The man they called Jesus approached the side of the wagon as Daryl climbed down.

“Daryl,” he said. “Carol. It’s been a while since I’ve seen either of you.”

Daryl accepted the half-hug that Jesus offered him because he knew he wouldn’t escape without it. Carol slid over and started out of the wagon, and Daryl immediately reached his hands up to catch her sides and help guide her down. As soon as she found her footing on the ground, Daryl looked back to Jesus.

“What brings you to Hilltop?” Jesus asked.

The clothing Carol favored these days hid her belly quite well at this point. Still, there was a hint of it where the cloth was wrinkled and bunched from sitting so long. Daryl reached a hand over and rested his palm flat over her belly. His hand practically covered the entire swell. 

“Heard you had a doctor here,” Daryl said. “Heard he could take care of babies and things. Thought he might have a look at something we brought with us.” 

Jesus wasn’t stupid or slow to follow things, and his eyes had immediately followed Daryl’s hand. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. It was clear that, when he’d been walking up and thinking of all the things that might have brought them there, this wasn’t one of the things that he’d included on his list.

“Precious cargo indeed!” Jesus said, he immediately went for a hug and Carol seemed more than happy to accept it. Daryl stepped out of the way so that the two of them could enjoy the strong hug that passed between them. When they were done, both of them still smiling, Jesus held Carol at arm’s length. He was clearly having a difficult time deciding if he was going to look at her stomach or her eyes. “Of course—he’s here and he’ll see you. I’m sure it’ll just take him a few minutes to get ready.” 

“We can put our stuff up,” Daryl said. “See about the wagon and the horses. If you got a room for us for the night?” 

“A night, a week,” Jesus ticked off, still holding onto Carol’s arms. “However long you want to stay. But—where is the King? Henry?” 

Carol’s smile fell and she looked at Daryl. He could feel her anxiety. 

She was in a good place for the moment. She was feeling good. And this was possibly going to be as stressful an appointment with a physician as she’d ever had. Daryl preferred for her to go into it with a positive state of mind instead of one that had just been worn out from rehashing the things that had been difficult over the past few days. 

He reached a hand out and squeezed the top of Jesus’s arm to draw his attention. He did his best, with his words and his facial expression, along with the firmness of his squeeze, to communicate that there was some finality in his words.

“They’re at the Kingdom,” Daryl said. “We’d really like to square things away. See that doctor. There’ll be plenty of time for catching up later. When we’re settled.”

Jesus seemed to understand what Daryl was saying. At the very least, he seemed to understand that Daryl was telling him “not right now” without using the words. He renewed his smile and nodded. 

“Absolutely,” he said. “Absolutely. I’ll just—send you with Tara to get situated and I’ll go and let the doctor know that you’re waiting to see him.” 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

AN: You can consider canon characters as practically OC for me (or at least OOC) because I don’t even know how Jesus acts, to be honest. I’ve seen very little of him and the few snippets I’ve seen on YouTube to “research” hardly make me an expert. The same goes for everyone, especially with the way characters change on the show (sometimes without rhyme or reason, in my opinion, but that’s another story entirely). 

Ditto for settings. I really create my own imaginary settings. I don’t know how far away one thing is from another. I don’t know who lives where, so I’m guessing and using people I want to use. (Do you know how close I came to going total AU and having Glenn meet them? Do you? Can you even imagine? LOL)

Also, I don’t do caveman Daryl with the vocabulary of six words and some variated grunts. I can’t handle it. Daryl is an intelligent person (though I don’t necessarily say highly educated, and I believe there’s a difference) and he can speak in full sentences, even complex ones, especially when it matters to him. I keep more of the Seasons 1 and 2 Daryl, but just sort of add on his new experiences. Basically, I guess I create my own Daryl. I’m sorry if that bothers you. It’s just what I have to do.

Anyway, there you go, your handy-dandy disclaimers for this chapter. 

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

“I haven’t seen you in at least a year,” the doctor said. 

He looked genuinely happy to see Carol and she smiled at him and embraced him. He looked at Daryl and offered him a smile and a hand. 

“Michael Janson,” he said. “Michael, please.”

“Daryl,” Daryl responded. “Dixon. But—Daryl.”

“Doctor Janson—Michael— comes to the Kingdom sometimes,” Carol said. “Treats everyone who needs something.”

“Where is the King?” Michael asked. 

“He’s at the Kingdom,” Daryl offered. 

He didn’t miss the expression that crossed the doctor’s face, but he didn’t care, either. His greatest concern was watching Carol’s face to judge how she was handling everything. Her anxiety was rising faster than the temperature in an oven. Daryl could practically feel it. 

“OK, then,” Michael said, clasping his hands together. “Jesus tells me that—you’re here for an ultrasound?”

“Yeah,” Carol said. She nodded her head and Daryl felt in his back pocket to make sure that the handkerchief he’d stuffed in his pocket that morning hadn’t fallen out somewhere. She looked like she might need it already, and he had a feeling it would only become more necessary. 

“A prenatal ultrasound,” Michael said. “Just to be clear.”

“Yeah,” Carol agreed.

“Does that mean that I’m correct in assuming you’d like a full prenatal exam?” He asked. Carol nodded again. “Great! Congratulations! That’s excellent—it’s not every day I get the privilege of talking about new lives. If you’d like to—go ahead and undress? I’ll wash my hands. We’re low on gloves, but I do keep everything as sanitary as absolutely possible. Those gowns are clean. And the sheets. The gowns tie in the back, but you won’t need to close it for now. You can take a seat on the table.” He looked at Daryl and cleared his throat. “Carol might like a little privacy.” 

Daryl looked at Carol to verify this. She looked like she might like a drink. She looked like she might like a Xanax. She looked like she might even appreciate an oxygen mask. She didn’t really look like she was all that concerned about her privacy since she was already working on the button and zipper of her pants.

“You want me to leave?” Daryl asked.

“I want you to stay,” Carol said. “I want—him to stay. He’s—he’s the baby’s father and…I’d like him to stay.” 

“Oh,” Michael said. He was already scrubbing his hands and, from the expression on his face, it was clear that he was no more up-to-date than anyone else at the Hilltop. Of course, he had no reason to be. 

“It’s complicated,” Daryl offered. “But—there’s no bad blood.”

“I’m not here to judge anyone,” Michael said. “And whatever makes Carol comfortable, makes me comfortable.”

“Could I—talk to you about that?” Daryl asked. “Just—for just like a minute? Maybe while she’s—puttin’ on one of them gowns or something? Before we get goin’ or whatever?” 

“I’ll just,” Michael started rinsing his hands. “I can just do this…when we get back. If you don’t mind, Carol?” 

“I don’t mind,” she said. She offered Daryl a tight-lipped smile. He knew that kind of smile. He patted her shoulder. 

“Be right back,” he said. As soon as Michael’s hands were dry, he followed him outside the little trailer that Michael called his office. The buzz of the generator would mask most of their conversation, at least. “Listen—I know you don’t need our whole story and you don’t care about it,” Daryl said as soon as the door was closed. He kept his voice low so that they wouldn’t catch the attention of anyone wandering around and their words wouldn’t drift back in to Carol when the generator failed to mask them. “Suffice it to say that—that woman in there is just another patient to you. Queen of the Kingdom or whatever. But she’s the only woman that—that I ever cared for like…like I do. And Ezekiel knows that. And she’s scared. But scared don’t even begin to cover it. Terrified. Like—nightmares and she’s not sleeping.”

“She’s having the nightmares again?” Michael asked.

“You know about that?” Daryl asked.

“I’ve treated her before,” Michael said. “For—a variety of things.” 

Daryl’s stomach twisted. Ezekiel would probably know that already. He was just learning it. 

“Point is, they back. And—I just want this to be good for her. She deserves that.”

Michael laughed to himself. 

“I don’t know what you…”

“I want you to be nice to her,” Daryl said. “Take your time with her.”

“I don’t have any other patients at the moment,” Michael assured him.

“She wants to see the baby,” Daryl said. “Hear its heart. Know if it’s a boy or a girl. I’m not askin’ you to lie or work miracles—but if you can work miracles?”

Michael nodded his head. 

“I understand,” he said. “Let’s go have a look, shall we? There may be no need for miracles. It could be that this is already the miracle you’re after.” 

Daryl nodded at Michael and followed him back inside the unit. Carol sat on the table wearing a cloth hospital gown. Daryl could feel her anxiety across the room. When Michael returned to washing his hands, Daryl walked over and put his arm around Carol. He rubbed his palm across her bare back and kneaded a few muscles to bring her just a little relaxation. 

“You OK?” Daryl asked.

Carol looked at him. She gave him the nervous, tight-lipped smile again and nodded her head. 

“Yeah,” she said. He offered her the handkerchief and she shook her head. “You keep it. For now. I guess—you didn’t expect to see me for…for this kind of thing.” She directed her words to Michael. There was a tremor in her voice. She worried about his approval, or something like that, and Daryl hoped he answered her in a satisfactory way.

Michael finished what he was doing at the sink. He came over carrying several things and Daryl stepped to the side to give him some room. The first thing he did was offer Carol a thermometer which she accepted under her tongue, and then he silently asked for her arm to introduce it into a blood pressure cuff.

“I’m always happy to see anyone for something good,” Michael said. “And I consider a new life wonderful news these days.” He released the air in the cuff and removed it from Carol’s arm before he rubbed his stethoscope on his hand and pulled down Carol’s gown enough to press it to her chest. Rather than pretend she was trying to retain some kind of privacy, Carol simply slipped her arms out of the sleeves and let it puddle in her lap. “Are you OK with that?” Michael asked. Carol hummed in the affirmative. “Can you inhale for me? Deep breath. Let it out. Again.” He worked his fingers lightly over various spots on her body and asked permission before he tested out every inch of her breasts with his fingertips. “Tender?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” Carol said. 

“It’s to be expected,” Michael said. 

“I know,” Carol said. “They’re growing, too, a little. Anything else that you…that I should know about? So far?” Carol asked.

“Everything seems fine,” Michael said. “You’re going to stay with us for—a couple of days?” 

“A day,” Carol said.

“I want to check your blood pressure a few times,” Michael said. “Randomly. Just—when I show up that’s all I’ll want from you. OK? It’s a lot, lot higher than I’d like it to be, but…I’m hoping that’s just nerves. Are you nervous? OK—can you take some deep breaths for me? Breathe with me? In…in…in…out…”

Carol didn’t have to answer the man because it was clear that she was moments away from a panic attack if she wasn’t already having one. Her blood pressure, it seemed, had pushed her too far in the direction that she was already heading. She didn’t fight the man, though. Instead, she did breathe with him. She did what he asked of her and she calmed. He stood there, with his hand on her shoulder, for a few solid minutes before he spoke to her again. Daryl was grateful, too, that he was taking his time with her as Daryl had requested. 

“Your blood pressure is high,” Michael said, his tone even. “Your pulse is erratic. But none of that means anything right now, OK? You can put your gown back on and just pull it to the side for me. OK? Can you lie back?” 

Carol nodded at him and she did lie back. She reached a hand out in Daryl’s direction, and he stepped somewhat behind the table so that he could hold her hand without feeling like he was impeding Michael’s movements in any way. She squeezed his fingers and Daryl squeezed hers back—a silent communication of solidarity. 

The first thing Michael did was unfold one of the thin sheets and drape it over Carol’s lower body. Then he gently probed her belly with some interest. Carol squeezed Daryl’s hand at intervals while Michael examined her. 

“Are you having any pain?” Michael asked.

“No,” Carol breathed out.

“Cramping or any blood at all? Contractions?” 

“No,” Carol repeated. “Why is—something wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong that I can tell,” Michael said. “Can you scoot down? All the way to the end? I’m going to help you put your feet in the stirrups.” 

“I know the drill,” Carol said. 

She did move, and Michael helped her get situated. He left her a moment and washed his hands again before returning with a bottle and a glove. Daryl watched as he examined Carol. There wasn’t much to see, of course, because he allowed her to keep the sheet that earned her a little privacy, so Daryl focused more on Carol’s face than anything as she searched the ceiling of the trailer after being instructed to relax and breathe a few times with the rhythm assigned to her. Daryl took his handkerchief and dabbed at a few of the drops of saltwater that had appeared around her eyes without drawing attention to what he was doing.

Michael walked to the sink again to wash his hands before he returned.

“Your cervix is fine,” Michael said. “Everything looks good so far.”

“Like it’s all fine?” Daryl asked.

“So far, I’d say that everything’s just fine,” Michael said. He switched on his machine. “And now that some of the uncomfortable part is over, what do you say we see how things are going with your baby? You can scoot back, if you want. Get comfortable. Relax.” 

Carol did change her position, but she immediately searched out Daryl’s hand. He kept his spot at the back of the table to give Michael plenty of room, but he returned his hand to Carol and he moved enough to the side to offer her a quick kiss on the forehead—for which she looked genuinely thankful. She was breathing, and she wasn’t in the midst of an active and hysterical panic attack, but Daryl could tell that it wouldn’t take much to tip her over any edge.

Daryl couldn’t complain about Michael, though. He seemed to be handling her the best way he could. There was nothing that Daryl could really expect him to do differently.

When Michael had everything ready, he squirted some kind of clear goo on Carol’s stomach and apologized to her about it being cold. If it was cold, though, she hadn’t made any complaint.

“Let’s see—what we can see, OK?” Michael said. 

“I already told Daryl not to be bothered if…if we can’t really see much or if…if it doesn’t look much like a baby,” Carol offered.

“Oh, we should be able to see some things,” he said. “And it should look at least a little bit like a baby judging from the position of your uterus.” 

“Is that bad?” Daryl asked, wishing he’d paid a bit more attention to these things before the world had gone to shit—but he’d never imagined himself in this position, exactly. “Where her…uterus is…positioned? Is it bad?” 

“No,” Michael said. “I assure you; her uterus is positioned right where it should be.” He was focused on the screen as he moved the wand around Carol’s belly. Daryl watched the screen and held Carol’s hand. She tensed and Daryl immediately saw what she saw. “And there’s your baby.”

“Holy shit,” Daryl said before he even really realized the words were going to actually escape his mouth. “It looks like a real baby. Holy shit…it looks…I expected like…an alien like…a blob or…you don’t know what the hell it is but…it looks like a baby.” 

Carol let go of his hand as Daryl moved closer to Michael and the screen to get a slightly better look at the baby. It was dark. It was grainy. It wasn’t Kodak quality, but it was a real baby. Daryl felt like, if he stared at the screen long enough, he could probably make out distinctive features. Daryl might have considered that it was some trick with the machine—a picture and not a real baby at all—but then the whole screen jumped.

“Oh…it moved,” Michael said. “Rolled away. Let’s see if we can catch a good profile again, like the one we had. Did you feel it move, Carol? That was a pretty dramatic roll.” 

“No,” Carol said. “No—I mean—I don’t think I did. I feel some…something in there. Some stirring. But…”

“But she ain’t wanted to get her hopes up,” Daryl supplied.

“Well you’re welcome to get your hopes up,” Michael said. “Because baby—is it baby Dixon?” Michael looked at Daryl and Daryl stared at Carol. It was Carol that hummed and nodded. Daryl felt her fingertips searching his out—reaching for his arm and trying to pull his hand closer to her. He moved back closer to her and gave her his hand. “Baby Dixon is an active little one. Either that or…it could be shy. Doesn’t want us to take some pictures. There you go. We found it again.” 

“It’s sucking it’s thumb!” Carol declared loudly. 

Daryl looked at her, rather than the baby, for a moment. She sounded absolutely thrilled. He’d heard genuine happiness in her declaration. Her eyes were absolutely flooded with tears. A few of them were on her lashes and some had puddled on her face. But they weren’t the kind he’d rush to try to wipe away because, for just a moment, she looked as happy as he’d ever seen her before with her face locked on the screen. He’d give Michael anything to take his time and let her have just a little longer of this. 

And Michael must have known, because he made no effort to end the show or change the subject. 

“It sure is,” he agreed. “I don’t think that’s a thumb. But fingers at least. Maybe it’s shy and…it knows we’re here now. So, it’s sucking its thumb or fingers to feel a little better.” 

Carol pulled Daryl’s hand to her and kissed it. She was happily wringing his hand to the point where it felt like she might twist his arm off, but he let her have it. 

“Daryl—our baby likes its fingers. Just like you,” Carol said. She sounded delighted, and Daryl laughed to himself to mostly combat the sudden tightening in his chest. “It’s nervous and it likes its fingers…”

“It’s cute,” Daryl said. “But—I don’t wanna scare it. If it’s nervous…” 

Michael laughed to himself.

“It’ll be fine,” he assured Daryl. “I do want to take a few measurements—if you don’t mind?”

“As long as we can watch,” Carol said. 

“They may not be as exciting as the profile views,” Michael said. 

“Is that sound the heartbeat?” Daryl asked.

“That sound, currently, is the mixture of a number of sounds,” Michael said. “Carol’s heartbeat, baby’s heartbeat, and the movement of fluids in Carol’s body. In just a moment—I’ll isolate the baby’s heartbeat so I can check it anyway.” 

“Can you tell—what it is?” Carol asked.

“You want to know?” He asked. “You’re sure?” 

“We want to know,” Carol said. 

“It’s never—absolute,” Michael said. “Mistakes happen. But it’s pretty clear…”

“How clear?” Daryl asked.

“I’m ninety-seven percent certain I’m right,” Michael said. “That you have a baby girl.”

Daryl’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment. He felt like he was the one who needed careful instruction on how to breathe in and out and what to do with himself. It hit him harder than he would have believed it might.

Suddenly, the image on the screen wasn’t just a trick of the machine. It wasn’t just a grainy sort-of image of a baby that moved and sucked its imaginary fingers and possibly tried to hide from the prying eyes of its parents and doctor.

Suddenly that baby was a real baby. It was a real baby that he’d created with Carol. 

That baby was Baby Dixon. That baby was their daughter. Their daughter who kicked and rolled around and sucked her fingers and hid because she was every bit as nervous as her mother, or she felt every bit as shy as her father often felt when people were watching.

“Daryl?” Carol asked. It pulled him back and he realized she was looking at him. She was working his hand in hers. “Daryl—it’s a girl. Did you hear? It’s a baby girl.” 

“I heard,” Daryl said. His heart was thundering and his stomach ached. 

“Are you disappointed?” Carol asked. Her brow furrowed and something replaced the bliss that had been there. Immediately, Daryl’s chest seized up and he did the only thing that his brain told him to do. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He lingered there a moment, and then he straightened up and squeezed her hand. 

“I’m not disappointed,” he assured her. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

And even though he hadn’t really thought about it before, he still knew that he was telling the truth.

“Measurements look good,” Michael said. “I’m estimating you’re at somewhere around your twentieth week. She’s measuring a little small, but that’s nothing to be terribly worried about. Her fetal weight is a little lower than I’d like it to be.” 

Daryl’s stomach practically wrenched.

“Can we fix that?” He asked. “How do we—fix it?” 

Michael looked at him and nodded his head. 

“You can absolutely fix it,” he said. “It means that—Carol needs to eat good, balanced meals. Maybe things have just been a little light?” 

“I’ve been really sick,” Carol said. “Really sick. For most of my pregnancy.”

“That hurt the baby?” Daryl asked. Carol squeezed his hand. “It’s—she’s hurt?” 

“She’s not hurt. Nothing is wrong,” Michael said, drawing his words out a little. “Nothing that I can see at least. Let’s hear the heartbeat and we’ll talk a bit more, OK? There you go…there’s her heartbeat.” 

“It’s fast,” Daryl said, immediately concerned. “She scared or—sick or somethin’?” 

“Her heartbeat is perfectly normal,” Michael sound. “It sounds strong and it’s just fast enough for this point in gestation.” He moved the wand, ending the show, and went about cleaning up Carol and the equipment. Daryl held Carol’s hand in his own, working it as he did so. 

“So, she’s healthy?” Daryl asked. “Or she ain’t?” 

“Carol or the baby?” Michael said. 

“The answer I wanna hear is the same for both,” Daryl said. “But—you already said Carol’s alright so…the baby.”

“OK—I won’t sugarcoat this because I think you both would benefit from absolute honesty more than anything. Honestly sometimes soothes anxiety better than people think. Carol’s blood pressure is extremely high,” Michael said. “At the moment, her blood pressure is dangerously high. Her pulse is erratic and her body temperature is a little more elevated than I would like it to be. All of these things can be caused by her environment. They can be temporary and they can be caused by stress, so my prescription for that is—be available for the next day or so. I’ll stop in and see you. Let’s see if we can’t get some more positive readings on Carol. And rest. Relax. For your health and your baby’s health. Carol—you can start getting dressed, if you’d like.”

Carol nodded and started to sit up, but Daryl could feel that she was shaking. Moving intensified it, so he moved to help her make the transition slowly to give herself time to relax. 

“With all due respect,” Carol said, “I’d relax better if—I knew the baby was alright.”

“Your baby is fine,” Michael said. “As far as I can tell, your baby is fine. You don’t need to worry. In fact, your worry may be more detrimental to her than just letting nature take its course.” 

“You sound concerned, though,” Daryl said. “Not like—like everything’s perfect.”

Michael sighed. He was done cleaning up, and he leaned against his counter to face them. Daryl brought Carol her clothes so that she could start dressing. He helped her dress since the shaking was taking its time getting under control.

He was certain, too, that Michael could see it. It might be an added reason for the frown and the crease between the man’s eyebrows.

“Carol is a geriatric pregnancy,” Michael said.

“That’s a shit thing to say!” Daryl said quickly. 

“Daryl…” Carol said.

“Neither one of us is that damn old,” Daryl pointed out.

“A geriatric pregnancy is any woman over thirty-five,” Michael offered. “It means that there are higher risks for things to go wrong, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that things will go wrong. Ideally? I’d like to see you eat a few more balanced meals. I’d like to see you relax. Those are the most important things but, more than anything, I want you to relax. Take it easy. Maybe I’d like to see you a few more times to monitor your progress.” 

“I’d like to talk to you about that,” Daryl said. “If you’ve got the time…”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” Michael said. “As your doctor, Carol, this is just my wish list.” 

“I can do all that,” Carol said. “But it’s hard to…relax.” 

“Well I’d like you to really give it a try,” Michael said. “We’ll talk about it a bit more later. When I find you to take your blood pressure again. In the meantime—try to relax a little. Enjoy the fact that, as far as I can see? You’re a strong, able-bodied woman. Your body is responding very, very well to this pregnancy. It shows all the signs of preparing for the long haul. You have a daughter that is very active and looks very healthy. Focus on that. Focus on being still and quiet and feeling her move. Focus on whatever you need to focus on to take the edge off. Because—aside from a few really good meals? That’s going to be the best thing you can give her.” 

Carol nodded her head and Daryl swallowed against the knot in his stomach. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead he helped Carol dress and he stood with her until the shaking had subsided. A few deep breaths and she seemed to have it under control. Daryl thoroughly thanked Michael for all he’d done so far, and Carol hugged him sincerely. When Carol assured him that she was fine, and she might like to go for a walk and stretch her legs around Hilltop—she might like to see some old faces—Daryl asked Michael for a few minutes of his time. Michael offered Carol two photos of their daughter’s profile and set her free from the trailer to go in search of Tara or anyone else who might like to see the proof that they had created a daughter. She looked, for a moment, ready to handle whatever might happen, so Daryl wasn’t too concerned about letting her go for the time being. 

Daryl waited until they were alone to bend Michael’s ear about the move to the Kingdom and to tell him about his personal concerns. He never mentioned, in front of Carol, the fact that he worried because he knew Carol and relaxation might be the best thing for the baby, but it was going to be the hardest thing for her mother.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

This is the second chapter of the day, so if you haven’t read Chapter 10, make sure you go back and read that one BEFORE you read this one. 

I hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

“Look at her tiny nose,” Carol said.

Daryl kissed the side of Carol’s head and leaned a little closer to her in the bed. With his arm around her shoulders, she was leaning in to him, too. She held the pictures out in front of her, propped against her knees. 

Their room for the night was comfortable. Jesus made sure they had nothing less than the best. He jokingly called it the presidential suite in the main house of the Hilltop.

The whole afternoon had been spent with telling and retelling the story of Carol and Ezekiel. It seemed as soon as they’d explained, difficult as it was, what had happened there, someone else approached to ask about the whereabouts of the good king if his queen was at the Hilltop and expecting.

The news of the pregnancy travelled so fast that it met Daryl when he’d emerged from Michael’s trailer. The first person that saw him, after talking with Michael and leaving with the promise that the man would borrow some horses to have his trailer towed to the Kingdom in the coming days, had told Daryl about Carol’s pregnancy because they clearly knew nothing of their connection. 

Carol had quickly grown clearly exhausted by the endless need to explain herself and the reaction of others who didn’t know how to react at all. Some offered her sympathy. Some were confused and requested more clarification that they weren’t even due. Some offered congratulations. But it was clear that everything they said, no matter what they chose, slowly drained Carol of whatever energy she’d stockpiled for the day.

Daryl had seen that she’d gotten a good meal, and then he’d seen about their room as early as possible. He’d left her resting in the room, munching her way through some snacks she’d acquired at the community storehouse, and he’d gone to get a few things of his own from the items they found and hoarded for whomever might find them useful or desirable.

Now, at least, Carol was reclining in bed with Daryl following their pre-bed baths. 

His hope was that she would start to really relax. 

“That’s your nose,” Daryl said.

Carol smiled. 

“It is not,” she protested. 

“It is,” Daryl insisted. “That right there? Is this nose right here.” 

When he touched her nose, she crinkled it up in the way that she did when she truly, sincerely smiled and Daryl’s body reacted with nervous pleasure over the fact that he could make her smile like that. Now, more than ever before, he wanted to make her smile like that forever. And if adoring the pictures for hours was what it took to do that, Daryl had all night—and the night was still very, very young as evidenced by the light that still shone through the windows.

Carol caressed the tiny nose in the picture like she was actually able to caress the baby’s nose that way. As soon as Daryl had found her after her appointment, he’d found her showing the pictures off to Tara. She’d looked concerned, though, and her hand had always been just an inch or so away from Tara—no matter where she turned to more closely examine the picture—like she would snatch them back in an instant. Daryl had never seen Carol react in such a way over anything material. She was the most giving person he knew. Anyone who ever said that someone would give the shirt off their back metaphorically had never known Carol.

Things were just things. 

But suddenly, some things were precious.

And she’d mentioned, more in mumbled explanation to herself than any real declaration to Daryl, that she feared the pictures would get smudged or destroyed. 

She had transferred some of her fears about the fragility of the child she carried over to the fragility of the pictures. Daryl hadn’t hesitated. He’d gone directly to one of the common storehouses and found a suitable frame. The pictures fit perfectly inside it and, as a result, they were protected. 

Carol and anyone else who wanted to touch them could touch them as much as they pleased.

Carol slid her finger from the baby’s nose and let it cover her mouth.

“Her tiny little mouth,” Carol said. 

“That’s yours, too,” Daryl said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Now I know you’re just giving me a hard time, Daryl,” Carol said. “Am I bothering you?” 

Daryl laughed to himself.

“You’re not! I’m not. Look—I’m lookin’ at your profile right now, Carol. I’m lookin’ at her profile. I’m tellin’ you that this kid is her mama’s kid. She’s the spittin’ image of you.” 

“We can’t see things clearly,” Carol said.

“Clear enough,” Daryl said. “I mean—I don’t even know she’s mine except…I mean I know she’s not Ezekiel’s. Because he’s just fancy enough that, if it was his kid? He’d figure out how to have her have a lil’ bitty crown sittin’ right there on top of her head.” 

“Don’t be mean, Daryl,” Carol scolded. It wasn’t sincere. “She’s yours. Look—that’s your chin.”

“What the hell’s a chin look like anyway?” Daryl said with a laugh. Carol frowned, though, and he wondered if she might accidentally take the teasing a little too much to heart. “Hell—I guess…I guess it could be my chin.”

“She is yours,” Carol said softly.

Daryl kissed the side of her face and then he touched her chin to turn her face toward him. He stole a quick kiss from her that she wasn’t prepared for, and then he went back for a second that she returned. He brushed his finger over her cheek and tucked some stray hair back behind her ear where it hadn’t made it into the braid she’d created.

“I know she’s mine,” Daryl said. “I’m just teasing you.” 

“Maybe—I don’t…want that,” Carol said.

It was rare that Carol spoke up to tell anyone what she liked or didn’t like. She would stand up to anyone that she felt like she needed to face off with to protect others, but when it came to standing up for herself in simple, everyday situations, she tended to keep quiet and accept that life would simply happen to her as it happened. 

Daryl appreciated that she was telling him something that she didn’t care for.

“Then I won’t never do it again,” he assured her. “Promise. And—I’m sorry I done it then.”

“I’m not mad,” Carol said. “Please don’t think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re mad,” Daryl said. “And you have the right to say what you don’t like to be teased about. I shouldn’ta said it. She’s mine and I know it.” 

He reached and tapped the frame. 

“But the fact remains that she looks like her mama,” Daryl said. “It’s a good thing, though. She’s got a…got good genes. Got a real pretty mama.” He winked at her. “So pretty—I hear tell that like…most the men left in the world are fightin’ over her.” Carol frowned at him and he shook his head. “Not that either?” 

“I’m sorry,” Carol breathed out. “I know you’re just trying to have fun…and I appreciate it because when you’re silly, and when you let me be silly? It helps. It’s just…”

“Too much going on right now,” Daryl offered. Carol hummed and nodded. “Too soon to tease about it. And that’s fine. And if it ain’t never not too soon? There’s plenty else to be silly about if silly’s what you want right now.” 

Carol sucked in a deep breath, let it out with a sigh, and snuggled into Daryl. She leaned her head against him. 

“Silly,” she said. “Sweet. I just want something that makes it feel like there’s not this huge weight on my chest. Just—for a little while.”

Daryl rubbed his face against her head and touched the picture again, drawing her attention to the profile picture of the baby sucking her fingers. 

“That right there—see? That’s when I know she’s mine,” Daryl said.

Carol hummed.

“You chew on your nails and your cuticles when you’re nervous, or bored, or thinking,” Carol said. Daryl could hear the smile returning to her voice even if he couldn’t see it. “And she sucks on her fingers when she’s nervous.”

“Or shy,” Daryl said. “We don’t know. Maybe she was just tired. Ain’t wanted to be bothered. Her mama gets kinda nervous too, though.” Carol hummed at him. “We gotta work on that. For her, but for you, too. If you won’t do it for you, though, you gotta do it for her. Relax.”

“How can I relax?” Carol asked. “When I feel like—there’s always this black cloud just behind me. Whenever anything’s good? It gets taken away. It always does.” 

“Except now,” Daryl said. “I’m not going anywhere, Carol. Ezekiel’s not going anywhere. We’re stuck with him for the rest of our lives. And he’s probably talking to Henry as we speak. He’ll probably be at the house like as soon as we get back and then he’ll be excited to know he has a little sister on the way. He’ll be ready to stay with you. Take care of you for a change. He’s not going anywhere. And she’s healthy.”

“Her weight is low,” Carol said. “And she’s small.”

“And her mother is small and her weight is low,” Daryl said. “So, we’ll feed both of you. But she’s strong and you’re strong and that’s good news.” 

Carol snuggled against him again, rubbing him with her body in an attempt to get as close as the laws of space allowed. He met her with the same enthusiasm. 

For years, he’d dreamed of being this close to her. He’d dreamed of having her desire to be this close to him. One way or another, though, he’d always managed to sabotage actually having that happen for any length of time. 

He wasn’t going to do that anymore.

Carol hummed and brushed her finger across the pictures again. 

“Look at her tiny little fingers,” Carol mused.

Daryl laughed to himself and kissed the side of her head.

“You gonna sleep with the pictures tonight?” He asked.

“I might,” Carol teased, picking up on the teasing in his tone. 

“I’m glad they make you happy,” Daryl said. “Give you—somethin’ to hold onto. Somethin’ to look at.” 

“I just like seeing her,” Carol said. 

“I like seein’ her too,” Daryl said. “Can’t wait ‘til we get to really see her.”

“I can wait,” Carol said. “I can wait—as long as she needs.”

“You know what I mean,” Daryl said. He reached his fingers out and pinched the frame between them. “Still—I think this frame here, so that you can touch the pictures as much as you want? I think this frame is probably the best gift I ever give you.” 

Carol let the frame rest against her knees. She turned to Daryl and offered him a smile. The smile sent a shiver through him. 

“Not the best gift,” she said. 

“No?” Daryl asked.

“No,” she assured him. She reached for his hand and he let her have it. She rested it on her belly and reached the other hand over to run her fingertips through his hair before she caught his face and kissed him. The kiss told him exactly what he needed to know about what was on her mind for ways to pass a little of the night. He indulged her and kissed her back with as much as enthusiasm as she showed him. “This is the greatest gift you’ve given me,” Daryl,” Carol said when she pulled their lips apart. “She’s the greatest gift you’ve given me.” 

Daryl took her picture frame and moved it out of the way. He put it on the nightstand directly beside her so that she could have it whenever she may need it. Then he turned his body and invited himself over to share her space. He brought their lips back together even as he let his hands start to explore her body and to start waking her up to his touch.

She kissed him and spread her legs to give him a place to put his knee. She made room for him to come closer to her and take his place entirely over her. 

Daryl had never been more annoyed than he was the moment that there came a loud knock on the door. 

“It’s Dr. Michael,” the man said through the door. 

Daryl pulled off of Carol and sunk back against his pillow. She laughed to herself and dabbed at her lips with her fingers. Neither of them was entirely without a little raggedness to their breathing.

“Come in,” Carol called out. “It’s not locked.”

“Only ‘cause we couldn’t figure out how,” Daryl muttered.

Michael opened the door and came in. Under his arm, he carried a blood pressure cuff, and around his neck he wore his stethoscope. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” He asked.

“Kinda,” Daryl offered.

“No,” Carol said. “Please…come in.”

“I just wanted to get a few readings before bed,” Michael said. “Jesus said you’d been up here a while and you’d had a little time to relax. I thought it might be the best time to see what we could consider some resting readings.”

From his pocket he produced the thermometer wrapped in a handkerchief. Carol accepted it under her tongue, but Daryl didn’t miss the way she rolled her eyes in his direction. She accepted that her blood pressure was taken, and she bared her chest for Michael to listen to her heartbeat. When he was done, he read her temperature, rolled the thermometer back in its cloth, and returned it to his pocket.

“Even at a resting point, your pulse is erratic,” Michael said. “Your temperature is elevated, and your blood pressure is high. I’m afraid that—I’m beginning to worry that it’s chronic and not circumstantial.”

“Before you lecture me,” Carol said. “I was more relaxed before.” 

“Something happened?” Michael asked. “Another panic attack?” 

“Nothin’ of the like,” Daryl offered. He cleared his throat. “The baby’s OK, right? I mean, I get it—as far as you know.” Michael nodded. “Nothin’ that we would do…nothin’ normal…would hurt it, right?” 

Michael furrowed his brow at Daryl, glanced at Carol, and then raised his eyebrows. Everything, all at once, dawned on him. He smiled.

“Do you mean intercourse?” He asked. Daryl barely grunted. He wasn’t comfortable discussing such things, really, but he figured that the doctor had to know how the hell they’d gotten the baby in the first place, and he’d rather have the official OK on things than not. “Unless there were some underlying circumstances, intercourse would not interfere with the development of the baby in any way. In fact, when a woman reaches climax, she releases a chemical that can be very helpful in lowering blood pressure.”

Daryl cleared his throat. 

“Well, see—we were just about to start lowering some blood pressure when you come in,” Daryl said. “And sometimes heartbeats an’ all—they gotta get a little faster before they sort of steady out.”

Michael laughed to himself. 

“I see,” he said. “By all means—continue. But remember, it’s the chemical that’s released that helps the most.” 

“Think we got it,” Daryl offered.

Michael stood up, but he did pat Carol’s shoulder. 

“You’re insisting on leaving tomorrow?” He asked. “You won’t stay and let me monitor things a few more days?”

“I’ll rest better in my house,” Carol said. “And—I need to see my son.”

“Things are about to get a whole lot calmer,” Daryl said. “But we gotta get back.”

“I’ll be in the Kingdom within the month,” Michael said. “But—I’ll see you at breakfast, before you go, at any rate.” He looked at Daryl. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“At least you answered my question,” Daryl said. 

Michael laughed to himself. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” he assured him. He pointed to Carol. “And you? Try not to worry about anything.”


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Here we go, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

“There isn’t any pressing business to keep me here,” Michael said. “As soon as a team can be spared to pull the trailer and the generator, I’ll head to the Kingdom.”

“We can send a team back,” Daryl said. “A couple hands to help out.”

“There’s no hurry,” Carol insisted.

“You’re a high-risk pregnancy,” Michael said, “in a high-risk environment. I’d like to be closer in case you need me.” 

Daryl saw Carol’s expression. It darkened from the way she’d looked most of the morning. She pretended she had a sudden interest in rearranging a few of the items on the back of their wagon.

“If something’s going to happen, Michael, there’s nothing you can do about it—whether you’re at the Hilltop or the Kingdom,” Carol offered.

“That isn’t true,” Michael said. “There are some things that I can do for different problems that may arise.”

“And we appreciate anything you have to offer,” Daryl interjected. “Carol—you about ready back there?” 

“I’m just fixing Dog’s bed,” Carol said. 

The blanket that she was referring to had already been fixed once. She was, more than anything, putting a moment of distance between them. Daryl glared at Michael. The man looked at him apologetically. 

“Your vitals looked good this morning,” Michael offered out. 

Carol abandoned her pretend work with Dog’s blanket and called to the animal that wasted no time in making the leap into the back of the wagon. As soon as he was settled, she closed the back and wiped her hands on her pants as she circled around. 

“Did they?” She asked, keeping her eyes on the ground or anywhere else they might trail to keep them away from Michael.

Daryl reached and caught her shoulder, guiding her toward the seat of the wagon. As soon as she started to climb up, he rested his hands on her hips to let her know that he was offering support in case she might find she needed it.

“Your heartbeat was regular,” Michael said. “Your temperature was elevated, but no more than I’d expect for an expectant mother. Your blood pressure was lower—closer to what I’d like.”

“And everything over a really hearty breakfast,” Carol mused, finding her seat. Daryl climbed up after her and got settled. “Sounds like I’m doing everything right.” 

“It was prob’ly all that blood pressure lowerin’ we were doing,” Daryl teased. He felt his own face burn at hearing his words, but he would sacrifice his own comfort in the chance that it might amuse Carol. It seemed to work, too, because she did laugh quietly beside him. 

“That could be it,” Michael said. “Sometimes the best medicines are the natural ones.”

“What was that chemical called again?” Carol asked. 

The smile was still lingering on her lips. Daryl normally would be mortified to be so openly discussing their sex life, but the truth of the matter was that he’d spent the last day or so talking about it in a round-about manner with nearly everyone at the Hilltop who wanted to know why it was that Ezekiel wasn’t there to hold Carol’s hand at the moment when she saw the child she was carrying for the first time. 

He might as well talk about their sex life in a way that benefitted them in some way. 

“Oxytocin,” Michael said.

“Oxytocin?” Carol repeated. Michael hummed and nodded to her. She repeated it again, committing it to memory. The smile hadn’t faded. In fact, when she looked at Daryl, the smile was still there and very much the smirk that he was familiar with—the smirk that meant that she was about to tease him, and she was going to enjoy it. “Maybe you should—add that to your prescription. Good food, lots of rest, and…lots of oxytocin.” 

She leaned enough to bump against Daryl. He was smiling and he wasn’t trying to hide it. The whole thing was making his face ache and he was pretty sure that his temperature, pulse, and blood pressure were elevated—but nobody was concerned about that. For her to feel better, even briefly, it was worth it, though.

“I wouldn’t complain,” he said. “Oxytocin. Hell—move it to the top of the list.”

“Consider it done,” Michael said with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Daryl said. “Alright—Doc. Thanks. You want us to send a team back for you?” 

“There will be horses to spare,” Michael said. “I’ll be there soon. I’ll let you know when I’m there.”

“Pay us a house visit,” Daryl said.

They’d already said goodbye to everyone else that cared that they were heading out, so Daryl flicked the reins and urged the horses onward toward the gates. Tara was working the gates and she called out to them and waved goodbye as they passed through.

As soon as they were back on the road, Daryl dropped his arm around Carol’s shoulder and she snuggled in close to him.

“Feelin’ OK?” He asked.

“If I say I’m still nervous,” Carol said, “then you’ll probably just turn around and go back as fast as you can and I just want to go home.” 

Daryl laughed.

“Is him sayin’ high-risk what’s got you with a bee up your nose?” 

Carol laughed and pulled away from him just enough to stare at him with a half-confused look on her face.

“A bee up my nose?” She asked.

“Yeah—like a bee up your nose,” Daryl said. “You know, because you’re upset or mad or whatever that he said the words and you didn’t like ‘em.”

“Do you mean a bee in my bonnet?” Carol asked.

“I don’t give a damn where you got the bee, Carol,” Daryl said. “Results the same.”

Carol sighed and returned to her position of leaning into Daryl. He wasn’t going to complain. If she wanted to ride the whole way back to the Kingdom like this, he’d gladly let her.

“High risk,” Carol said. “Geriatric pregnancy. They sound so terrifying. It’s like I’m feeling fine and then one of them comes to mind and suddenly I can’t breathe and my knees are shaky because it feels like…it’s just a matter of days. Like I’m a bomb, waiting to go off, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Well—you kinda are waitin’ to go off,” Daryl said. “Because one way or another, the clock is tickin’ down. And when it gets to the end? Out comes a baby.”

Carol snorted. 

“That is the most—that’s really poetic, Daryl,” Carol teased. “You should write that down.”

“Asshole,” Daryl offered with a laugh. “Tryin’ to make you feel better an’ you just jerkin’ me around. So I’ma shut up now.” 

“Please don’t,” Carol said sincerely. She brushed her lips against his jaw and then again against his cheek. “Please—it does make me feel better. It really does. I’m sorry…I’m just…”

“Disguising your feelings with humor,” Daryl said. Carol pulled away from him enough to stare at him. “Read it in a book,” he offered. “Got a couple of books in my bag back there. Picked ‘em up at the Hilltop. I figured—we gonna spend a lot of quiet evenings at the house…”

“And we can sit and read together by the fire,” Carol said.

Daryl hadn’t really imagined where they might read, or even that they might read together. Mostly he’d figure that Carol would need to rest and one of the ways to guarantee that she rested was to make sure that she had company. He figured he could probably get her to sit still if he sat still long enough. A book was a good way to pass the time when the conversation started to slow.

She sounded so thrilled by the prospect of reading together by the fire, though, that Daryl certainly didn’t have any complaints.

“By the fire,” Daryl agreed. “You and me. All curled up.” 

She seemed pleased, and that made him just as pleased as he could be. She sat beside him, in silence, for a while and the horses slowly made their way down a road that wasn’t unfamiliar to them at all.

“Listen,” Daryl said, “I won’t sit here and tell you not to worry. I know you’re gonna worry. You’re probably worryin’ right now, and if you weren’t, you are now because I said somethin’ about it. And—I won’t tell you that there ain’t a thing gonna happen and I’ma make it all alright. I’ve said that to you before. I’ve told you I could fix things like I was some kinda god and—I couldn’t make good on the promises I made you.” Carol slipped her hand under Daryl’s hand and threaded her fingers through his.

“I will never hold that against you,” Carol said.

Daryl laughed to himself.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’ma do it myself. Just like you got the shit you’re wired to do; I got the shit I’m wired to do. So—I won’t tell you that I can stop anything you’re afraid of from happening. What I will tell you is that I’ma listen to that Michael guy no matter how damn irritatin’ I might think he his and we’re gonna do whatever—and I mean whatever—the hell we gotta do to come out of this with the best odds possible. We’re gonna make her the best environment she could ask for to grow.”

“What if it’s something like—I have to go on bedrest or I have to rely on you for everything?” Carol asked.

Daryl laughed to himself—he was using humor to disguise his feelings, because he didn’t really feel the laughter. He didn’t mind the idea of taking care of Carol, but he knew that something like that would be a constant fight. It would be hard on both of them—and not because of physical demands. Still, he thought he’d appreciate the chance to take care of Carol. At least it would make him feel like he had something to really contribute in all of this. 

“I said whatever,” Daryl said. “And I mean it.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on you,” Carol said.

“So, I gotta cook a couple meals,” Daryl said. “You think I can’t feed us?” 

“I didn’t say you can’t,” Carol said. “Of course, I don’t think you can’t. But…”

“But nothin’, Carol,” Daryl said. “Listen—if I gotta cook us food, I can do that. If I gotta feed you and bathe you—I can do that, too.”

“I’d go crazy knowing that I wasn’t helping you,” Carol said. “That I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You’d be plenty busy growing our baby girl,” Daryl said. “We don’t even know if it’ll come to anything like that, but if that’s gotta be the rule? Then you grow the baby an’ I’ll wash the damn dishes.” Carol laughed to herself and hugged Daryl’s arm. He freed his fingers to pat her leg. “We’re doing this, so we’re doin’ it right, Carol. All the way. Give her the best chance we can give her.”

Carol nuzzled the side of his face. 

“I love you,” she said softly into his ear. 

It was very rare that she said the words. Most of the time when she said them, she said them in the heat of a moment. She told him once that she feared that they were too much for him because, honestly, they usually were too much for him. 

Even though he felt them, he found it difficult to say them.

This time, though, he squeezed her thigh where his hand rested there, and he thought that the idea of it didn’t seem scary. He thought, maybe, the words ought to be said more often or, at the very least, tried out a bit more. 

“I love you,” he said, not minding entirely how the words sounded coming out of his mouth.

“I know,” Carol said. She nuzzled the side of his face again. She kissed him, close to his ear, with nothing more than the soft and gentle press of her lips against his skin. Normally such a gesture was appreciated, and it gave him a warm feeling in his chest, but this particular time it woke up his interests enough that he shifted a little to be more comfortable. “Something wrong?” Carol asked, pulling away a bit.

“You keep that up? And we gonna pull off the road somewhere an’ get you another dose of oxytocin,” Daryl said.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Carol said. “But—it might be safer if we wait until we get to the house.”

“Damnedest thing is we gotta drop the wagon off,” Daryl said. “Get someone to drive us back to the house.” 

“So?” Carol asked.

“So, you think his majesty’s gonna just let us run by an’ leave? I don’t know if you hadn’t figured it out yet, Carol, but we’re prob’ly about to get fed at the Kingdom. And then? I got a good feelin’ the evening’s gonna be spent with Henry—as it oughta be.” 

“It’ll give you something to look forward to tonight, then,” Carol said. “Although…”

“Although?” Daryl asked. “Oxytocin is on your prescription, Carol. It’s pretty damn important…” Carol laughed and Daryl echoed her amusement. “I can tease you as good as you can tease me.”

“I was just going to stay that—if Henry stays? Daryl, the springs on that bed are awful,” Carol said. “I don’t want to scar him.” 

“We got some oil at the house,” Daryl said. “I already told you, I’ma do whatever it takes to help you create the environment that that baby girl is gonna like the best for growing in—and if she likes oxytocin? She’s gettin’ oxytocin.”


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl was thankful that Henry met them at the gates and that, as soon as Carol was off the wagon, he embraced her in a hug. He didn’t say anything about his feelings, and he didn’t say whether or not the man he called his father had spoken to him about everything that was happening around him, but Daryl assumed that the boy might not be comfortable with expressing all of that in a public place.

As soon as Carol was clear of the wagon, Daryl walked around back to let dog out. The animal had jogged along beside them for part of the journey, but he was also content to lay on his blanket and watch the world go by.

As soon as he was down, though, Dog’s greatest ambition was pissing on every square inch of the royal gardens.

Daryl didn’t ask Carol if she wanted it, he simply reached for the small bag where he knew she’d packed most of her possessions. There was very little that she’d bothered to carry, so he simply dropped the bag over his shoulder to carry it with them.

Ezekiel met them almost immediately and he hugged Carol before he clapped Daryl on the shoulder.

“Pleased to see you made the trip without any grave difficulties,” Ezekiel said. “I trust you come bearing good news from the Hilltop?” 

Normally Daryl would tell Ezekiel that the whole King thing was too damned much, and many times Ezekiel would at least tone it down some for him, but Daryl didn’t say anything because, all around them were Ezekiel’s loyal subjects. Whether or not it was a fantasy, it was their fantasy. Daryl wasn’t going to disrespect Ezekiel in his own home.

“Good news,” Daryl said. “Good tidings. Whatever the hell you wanna call it.”

“You have ridden far and travelled long,” Ezekiel said. “What say we feast and you can quench your thirst while you share the happy news?”

Daryl bit the inside of his cheek. He accidentally looked at Carol and she was half-smirking at him. 

She was tired and starting to get a little grumpy about everything. She’d wanted to go directly to the house, but the wagon made that impossible.

Daryl had told her that they would eat at the Kingdom. The food might help her mood, and he was sure that Ezekiel would insist. He’d promised her that Ezekiel wouldn’t be able to rest without at least a little time spent in their company and some news about the baby. He’d told her that, if they refused, they were likely to find Ezekiel on their porch not ten minutes after they arrived at the house. 

Now Carol was amused because his prediction had been correct.

He nodded his head at Ezekiel.

“I could use somethin’ to drink,” Daryl said. “And—Carol really oughta eat somethin’.” 

Carol didn’t argue. She followed Daryl with her arm around Henry’s shoulder, and Daryl walked with Ezekiel. Inside, they ended up seated at a dining table that was large enough to have seated at least eight other people. They crowded together at one end of the table so as to minimize the dramatic distance between them all. 

For a moment, the silence was awkward. Everyone looked at everyone else like they thought they might start some conversation to break the silence. Everyone, it seemed, was too afraid to be the one to say something wrong or to say something too early. Instead of words, there was a great deal of uncomfortable glances exchanged. 

And then Jerry entered the room, carrying a casserole which he put down on the table, and the tension was immediately dissolved.

Carol got out of her chair and thanked Jerry for the casserole—and his presence—with a warm hug. And Jerry, immediately after pulling away from her, pressed his hand against her belly. 

Jerry was one of the people that Daryl knew Carol was most fond of in the Kingdom. He was one of the people who knew about the fantasy of it all—or maybe they all did and they just didn’t want to admit it—but he was fully committed to the performance. Maybe it made it all just a little bit easier.

“My Queen!” Jerry declared, clearly happy to see Carol.

“Jerry,” Carol warned. He grinned at her.

“How’s the princess?” Jerry asked, undeterred. 

The smile that spread across Carol’s face was warm and truly happy. For a moment, Daryl considered thanking Jerry for asking what was on everyone’s mind in a way that would make Carol smile rather than make her tense up. 

“Yes,” Ezekiel bellowed from his seat at the end of the table, “we wait to hear happy tidings of the royal infant.” 

“Ezekiel,” Carol said, her smile falling as she turned to look at him. 

Jerry drew her back quickly, though, by physically drawing her attention with another pat on her belly.

“You’re still the queen,” he offered. “So, this little dude or…dudette? Is still the princess…or, I guess the prince, if you say so.” 

Carol laughed.

“Actually,” Carol said, “it turns out that the fever hallucination I had…”

“Dream,” Jerry interrupted like he was trying to help her construct a narrative fit for telling in Ezekiel’s royal presence.

“The dream I had,” Carol corrected with a hint of a smile curling the corners of her mouth upward, “turned out to be correct. We’re expecting a girl.” 

Both Henry and Ezekiel left their seats to embrace Carol, rub her belly, and give their congratulations. Daryl stayed in his seat. He’d congratulated her many times, and he’d congratulate her many more as they figured out how to navigate these next few months before they welcomed a baby into the world. 

While he waited for them to finish fawning over her—something he figured was probably good for her and good for her overall morale—he fished around in the bag of her prized possessions. He did his best not to look at anything in there except for to quickly lay his hands on what he knew she’d be keeping with the things she held dearest.

He pulled the frame out, but he rested it in his lap for a moment. 

As soon as the initial excitement died down, Ezekiel returned to the table. Surprisingly enough, he offered a hand out in Daryl’s direction.

“Happiest news we have,” he declared, “that the Queen shall bring forth a daughter from her…beau.” 

Daryl realized that Ezekiel’s hesitation came from the fact that he didn’t know what to call Daryl. The truth was, though, that Daryl wasn’t sure what he should call him. In the land of reality, he and Carol hadn’t had time—or they hadn’t taken the time—to discuss things like titles. Maybe that was because, in the land of reality, titles didn’t really matter all that much. These days, honestly, they mattered even less than they once had.

In the land of make believe that Ezekiel inhabited, Daryl would be another character entirely—a character he couldn’t even imagine. 

Still, he took Ezekiel’s hand, still seated at his spot at the table, and gave it a hearty shake.

“Congratulations,” Ezekiel said. “The fates have truly smiled upon you and brought their blessings.” 

“Yeah,” Daryl said. “Thanks, man.” 

“Maybe we need to be a little sparing with the congratulations,” Carol offered. She had the attention of everyone. She shook her head because she could tell, just like Daryl could, that everyone immediately thought the worst. He wouldn’t have expected any less, though, because her words made his stomach drop and he already knew the state of things. “There’s nothing wrong,” Carol clarified quickly. “I just mean—until we know more or…the baby’s here. Everything’s fine right now, though the baby is a little on the small side…”

“Which we been assigned to remedy with food like this here casserole,” Daryl offered. “So why don’t we have some of it?” 

“And cobbler!” Jerry declared. “There is cobbler for after your meal. Made fresh this afternoon. Apple—you usually like it.” 

“I do like the cobbler,” Carol said. “Thank you, Jerry.” 

“If the lady’s concern is food,” Ezekiel offered, “there is an abundance at the Kingdom. You needn’t go without.” 

“And we appreciate it,” Daryl said. “I can hunt. We could even clear some of that land enough for better fences. Expand them. We could grow food. Put up a greenhouse. But we won’t be planting until the spring.”

“It’s not just the food,” Carol said. She started back toward her chair, but she stopped before she sat down. Holding onto the back of it, she sighed as she struggled either with her words or with actually getting them to come out. “It’s…”

“Mom? Is something wrong?” Henry asked. Daryl could see the boy was genuinely concerned. He walked over to Carol and practically draped himself around her. He couldn’t miss the worry on anyone else’s face either.

“There’s not a damn thing wrong!” Daryl said, some of his irritation coming out. “There ain’t. The baby’s fine. She’s a little bit small, but it’s just ‘cause she missed a couple meals. We’re gonna feed her. Appreciate all the—casseroles and cobblers and vegetables or whatever we can get. Carol’s fine. Healthy as a horse.” 

Daryl wasn’t going to scold Carol for her concerns. He might discuss them with her—possibly time and time again—but he’d do that in private. He would help he figure out how to get her worries under control, he wouldn’t scold her for them. And he wasn’t blaming her for her feelings. If he was blaming anyone, he was blaming the doctor for simply not skipping any of the worrisome sounding bits to share privately with Daryl or to keep to himself. After all, unless there was something they could really do, there was no need to worry. And recommending anything he recommended could have easily been done without introducing any doubt into the scenario. Nobody alive, Daryl would venture to say, was living under the illusion, after all, that there weren’t risks involved in absolutely everything these days. They certainly weren’t laboring under the illusion that pregnancy and childbirth came without its share of possible difficulties. Daryl decided to somewhat voice his frustrations as a way to relieve them for himself and to relieve some of the confusion of others. 

“The doctor—he’s a fine doctor. And I’m glad he knows what the hell he’s doin’, but maybe he don’t know how you gotta talk to people these days. He wanted to throw around words—words that weren’t meant to do nothin’ but sound scary and leave him room to say that if…if things didn’t go well, it weren’t his fault. It weren’t nobody’s fault.” Daryl stopped a moment. He could feel some of his irritation leaving him. He felt tired, suddenly, but it felt good. He’d successfully drawn the attention away from Carol. She was staring at him as hard as anyone else, like she had no idea what he might say, and he held her eyes. “Carol’s fine,” he said. “Doc’s comin’ within the month to stay here. We appreciate you puttin’ him up. We got a prescription for—for helpin’ the baby grow. She’s just about perfect.” 

He pulled the picture frame out his lap and looked at it for a moment like he hadn’t practically committed the entire thing to memory the night before. He gave Carol a hard time about how much she’d touched and looked at the pictures since they got them, but he couldn’t really hold it against her. Just seeing the grainy profile of the baby gave Daryl butterflies in his gut. He offered the frame out in Ezekiel’s direction. 

“She’s just about perfect,” Daryl repeated, realizing how truly tired he was beginning to feel. “We brought a couple pictures of her. So—how about we serve this casserole around and…everyone can get a good look at her?” 

Carol sat down at her seat across from Daryl and Jerry quickly served her casserole before he made the rounds. He looked so damned happy at the moment that Daryl might have thought that serving casserole was all he’d ever dreamed of doing with his life.

Ezekiel carefully studied the pictures in his hand and then he reached a hand over and patted Carol’s. 

“She is a beauty,” he said. “She inherited her beauty from her mother.” Ezekiel winked at Carol and Daryl allowed it because what he said was true, and also because the harmless teasing made Carol smile. Ezekiel passed the photo over to Jerry, who was hovering behind her shoulder, and who declared she was “one of the best looking babies he’d ever seen,” before he passed the frame on to Henry.

Across the table, Carol was watching Daryl. Even around the fork, when she ate, she smiled at him. She was smiling at him with her eyes. The expression made his chest tighten. It loosened a little, though, when he felt her nudging him with her foot under the table. Her smile widened when she saw that he’d noticed, and he very clearly read her lips as she mouthed a “thank you” to him.

“What was the prescription?” Henry asked. He was sitting beside Carol and he half leaned into her and toward the table like he was trying to get closer to the center of things. 

“What?” Carol asked, accepting the frame back that she got from Henry. She looked like she wasn’t sure what to do with it, so Daryl waved his fingers at her and took it back so that she wasn’t troubled with figuring out where to put it for the moment. 

“You said you had a prescription,” Henry said. “To help the baby grow. What is it? The apothecary can make a lot of things, but there’s a lot we’ve found, too. It may be there if you don’t have it already.”

“It’s a natural prescription,” Daryl offered. “Won’t run out. Good food—keep her fed. And—relaxing and resting. That means takin’ it easy.” 

“It means not being bothered by insignificant concerns,” Ezekiel offered.

Daryl had the distinct feeling that Ezekiel’s comment was directed at Henry more than anyone, because Henry sunk back into his chair. Daryl imagined that, perhaps, something of the sort had already been suggested to the boy. 

“So, what are we going to name her?” Jerry asked, sitting down at the table and inviting himself to share some of the casserole.

“Jerry,” Ezekiel said. 

“We haven’t gotten that far,” Carol said. 

“Got plenty of time,” Daryl offered.

“She ought to have a really royal name, you know? Like…what was the Russian princess? Anastasia? Or you could just go crazy and just call her Princess…or go straight to…”

“Jerry!” Ezekiel said, more loudly than before. He interrupted Jerry and, almost like a scolded child, Jerry froze and simply looked at Ezekiel—fork halfway to his mouth—like he was waiting for further information. Ezekiel sighed. “Why don’t you go and see if the cobbler’s ready? I’m sure that the queen and her beau are road weary and wish to retire to their home soon.” 

Daryl didn’t say anything immediately, but he hoped that Henry would be joining them.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol reclined on the couch with her feet on the coffee table in the center of the living room. The cobbler she was slowly spooning out of a bowl—making sure to savor every bite because it was even more delicious than she ever remembered it being before—was her second helping of the dessert, since she’d eaten the first helping at the Kingdom. When they’d left the Kingdom, they’d left with a large box of produce, an extra casserole for dinner, and two cobblers.

Carol wasn’t certain, at that moment, that she couldn’t eat all the cobbler herself. 

While she rested, under strict orders to do so from Daryl and Henry—despite her attempts to tell them that she didn’t need to rest—they had both unloaded the wagon before Ezekiel left with it to return to the Kingdom. Then Daryl had gone about putting things away and dealing with a running list of “household chores” that he’d created to do outside—most of which involved checking his traps and clearing any Walkers that might have bunched around the fences—and Henry had taken his things to one of the small extra bedrooms to unpack the items that he’d brought.

The cobbler had been a decision that Carol made, all her own, when left to her own devices.

Michael—her doctor—had told her to practice being still. He’d told her to start listening to her body. He’d told her to try to start listening to the baby that she was carrying to uncover what she might like or want. 

For the moment, Carol was certain that she both liked and wanted cobbler.

“You never let me have two desserts.” 

Carol jumped. Her spoon clanked the side of the bowl with the sudden movement. As soon as she turned to see him, Henry’s hand pressed down on her shoulder from behind the couch.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he offered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s OK,” Carol said. She patted the couch beside her. “I forgot I wasn’t alone. It was so quiet.” 

“If you want some time?” Henry offered. 

Carol smiled to herself. He had always been such a sweet boy. She’d struggled, at first, with the whole idea of having a family again. She’d been struggling with so much—so much that she still wasn’t entirely without—that the thought of really blending in with a family was terrifying to the point that it was almost suffocating. It had been difficult to really feel comfortable with her place and her new set of roles. She could love Henry, and she could love Ezekiel, and she could love Daryl, and she could be the Queen—but she couldn’t do it all, all the time. Sometimes she needed to be along with herself. Sometimes she needed to fall apart and put herself back together to come back to everything that had become her life. 

The little house had offered her a place to be alone when she needed it, and Ezekiel had normalized her need to retreat there to the point that Henry hadn’t ever really been saddened by Carol’s occasional disappearances. He understood that, sometimes, his mom needed some time and, when she returned, she would return a happier, lighter version of herself that was ready to love him with everything he required of her. 

Honestly, even though she needed less time alone than she once had, she worried that her new family arrangement wouldn’t provide her with enough of that time.

But that was a concern for another day. Right now, instead of craving time alone, she was craving interaction with her loved ones.

She patted the couch again.

“What I want is for you to come and sit with me for a few minutes,” Carol said. “Tell me everything I missed at the Kingdom.” 

“You mean—in the past few days?” Henry asked, sitting down. His tone made it absolutely clear that he thought her request was ridiculous.

Carol laughed to herself. She wrapped her arm around Henry’s shoulder and pulled him to her. He came without a fight and let her kiss the side of his head. Unlike most teenagers, or so she’d always been told about teenagers, Henry wasn’t ashamed of her affections. Of course, Carol wasn’t sure if that would last once he started trying to impress someone who wasn’t his parents, and once being affectionate with his mother became something that might make him uncool to someone else.

But for now, he was still affectionate with her, and Carol appreciated it. She appreciated it, at the moment, more than ever.

“Tell me what I should know,” Carol said. “Tell me anything you want to tell me.” 

Henry sat quiet for a moment and Carol returned to her cobbler while she waited. He smirked at her.

“You never let me have two desserts,” Henry said, repeating what he’d told her earlier. 

“You can have two desserts if you want,” Carol said. “Just today. There’s plenty in the kitchen.” 

Henry shook his head.

“No,” he said. “You always said it’ll ruin my appetite.” 

Carol smiled to herself. 

“Normally that’s not a lie. Don’t tell Daryl,” Carol teased, “but—I’m not sure anything could ruin my appetite right now. I’m starving. And this cobbler is delicious.” 

Henry smiled at her. He stared at her in the way that he had of doing, sometimes, that almost made Carol uncomfortable. Sometimes he looked at her with the greatest amount of pure love and appreciation that anyone ever had. He looked at her like she was something unworldly. 

The way that Henry looked at her, when he was like that, was what had first led Ezekiel to teasingly call her the Faerie Queen and say that she must be something not quite of this world. 

Really, Carol assumed that Henry appreciated her role as his mother since he’d lost his biological mother, and he was old enough to remember Carol stepping into the role. She assumed, too, that he simply cared a great deal for those he loved because he knew what it was to be left entirely alone in the world. If it weren’t for the family they’d built, he wouldn’t have had anyone—none of them would. 

He reached his hand over, somewhat more tentatively than in the past, and pressed his palm on Carol’s belly. She wondered, for just a moment, how he’d react when there was more there to rest his hand on—and, perhaps, when there was some activity there to witness.

“She likes cobbler?” He asked.

“I guess she does,” Carol said, enjoying his affections. Suddenly Henry furrowed his brow and his smile faded.

“If you’re hungry, shouldn’t Daryl know?” Henry asked. “Isn’t it part of your prescription?” 

Carol laughed to herself.

“I was mostly teasing about the don’t tell Daryl part,” Carol said. “And I was really mostly teasing about starving. I think I was mostly just craving the cobbler. But—I’ll eat some casserole in a little while. When we all have some.” 

“She’s healthy?” Henry asked. 

Carol started to tell him that they’d been through everything at the Kingdom, and there really wasn’t that much to tell, but she thought better of it and bit her tongue. Maybe Henry needed to hear it again. Maybe he just needed to talk to her.

“She’s small,” Carol said. “Even though—I already feel like she’s really big. Like I’m really big.” 

“You’re tiny,” Henry said. 

“So is she,” Carol said. 

“So, you should eat more,” Henry said. 

“So, I’m going to eat more,” Carol assured him. 

“And Daryl should know if you’re hungry,” Henry said. 

“Because it’s his baby, too?” Carol asked.

Henry nodded his head.

“But—mostly because he’ll make sure you get something to eat,” Henry said. “Just like Dad would, if he were here.” 

Carol nodded her head. She resisted the immediate urge to tell Henry that she could get her own food, especially since there was casserole and cobbler already prepared in the kitchen. She realized that saying that would only take away from what Henry was trying to say. It wasn’t about her ability or inability to procure food if she was hungry. It wasn’t about that at all.

“Daryl would make sure I got something to eat,” Carol said. “And your Dad? He absolutely would. They both take very good care of me.”

“Because they both love you,” Henry said. “And they both love her.” 

Carol smiled to herself.

“They do,” she agreed. 

Henry sighed. 

“I wanted you and Dad to be together forever,” Henry said. “I thought—you’d be the ones that got to grow old together. You’d get to be old together and you’d be together forever. I liked the idea of it—the idea that some people got to be in love forever. Like in the fairy tales.”

“Happily ever after?” Carol asked.

Henry growled to himself. 

“I know it’s just a ridiculous children’s story,” he said, but he never did really finish the statement.

“It’s a beautiful sentiment,” Carol said. “And I hope—I hope this doesn’t mean that I don’t get my happily ever after.”

“You mean with Daryl,” Henry offered. It wasn’t really a question, but Carol answered it as though it was. She hummed at him and nodded her head to affirm what he’d said. “But it means that Dad doesn’t get a happily ever after.” 

“Or—maybe it means that the happily ever afters don’t happen like they do in the fairy tales,” Carol said. “If your Dad found someone? If he fell in love with someone? Henry—he would do so with my blessing. More than that—I hope that he finds someone who loves and appreciates him for every wonderful quality that he has. And he’s got quite a few, so you ought to pay attention and learn what you can from him.” 

“It’s just not you,” Henry said.

“I love and I appreciate your father,” Carol said. “But the different kinds of love that I was talking about? When you’re older, maybe, you’ll understand it a bit better. I hope you do. I hope you fall in love and I hope you get your happily ever after, Henry. But—when you do love someone? You’ll find out that there are different kinds of love. And they make you feel different. It’s like your whole body responds differently for each of those different kinds of love. Most of me loves Ezekiel, just like most of me loves you…but there are parts of me that only love Daryl because he’s that special kind of love. But that doesn’t mean that—if your Dad never finds that special kind of love? It doesn’t mean that he won’t still be here, and he still won’t be part of everyone’s happily ever after in his own special way.” 

“Does Daryl love you like that?” Henry asked. “You talk about—being in love and I hear everyone talk about how wonderful it is…finding someone that you love like you’ve never loved before. You say that’s how you love Daryl.” 

“It is,” Carol agreed.

“Does Daryl feel the same?” Henry asked.

“You’ll have to ask Daryl that,” Carol said. “That’s his question to answer. Not mine.”

Henry nodded his head, and he cast his eyes downward toward the couch. Carol had watched him grow up. She’d watched him, from the first time she’d let him call her Mom, growing into a fine young man. She’d worried over him, and she’d lost sleep over him, but he’d continued to become everything she’d hoped he might and even a little more.

But still, sometimes, she could see the little boy that he had been.

“Hey,” she said. “I know you’re sad, OK? And that’s OK. It’s OK to be sad or…angry…or whatever you’re feeling. It’s even OK to hate me if you need to. But—not forever. Just for a little while, OK?” 

She reached her hand up and brushed her fingers through his thick hair. She brushed it back and to the side and he looked at her. 

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “I couldn’t hate you. I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Carol said. “But—I just want you to know that I’m not trying to tell you not to feel your feelings…even if your Dad might have told you something like that.”

Henry shook his head. 

“He said I should be gentle with you,” Henry said. “Not because you need it but, because you deserve it.”

Carol laughed to herself.

“That sounds like him,” she said. 

“He also said that he’s not angry with you,” Henry said. “And that—I shouldn’t be either.”

“Still,” Carol said, “you make your own decisions. About your feelings. I appreciate you spending the night tonight and—I hope you’ll stay with me some. I don’t expect you to leave your Dad all the time. I wouldn’t want you to. But—I hope you won’t leave me all the time, either.” 

“I packed enough for a couple of days,” Henry said. “And I thought…”

“What?” Carol urged when he paused.

“I could just leave it here, you know? So, I’ve got stuff here and at the Kingdom.”

“I think that would be perfect,” Carol said. “If that’s what you want.”

“Daryl won’t mind?” 

“Daryl won’t mind,” Carol said. “But—I think that’s a question for Daryl, too. Something you should ask him so that you get your answer and you don’t just have to trust me.” 

“You won’t need the room for the baby?” Henry asked.

“We’ll use the other little room for the baby,” Carol said. “And—at least for a little while, she’s already got a room.” 

Henry returned his hand to her belly.

“How long before she gets here?” He asked.

“I’m about twenty weeks,” Carol said. “And—if I went all the way? I’d be about forty weeks. So, we’re about as far in as we are out.”

Henry laughed to himself.

“How big is she?” Henry asked.

Carol spooned another mouthful of her cobbler into her mouth and chewed through it while she considered her answer. 

“I don’t know, exactly,” Carol said. “Probably—like your hand. Maybe she’s not even that big.” 

“How much does she weigh?” Henry asked. 

“Not very much,” Carol said. “And, apparently, not enough.”

“Can you feel her?” Henry asked. 

“I don’t know,” Carol said. “Sometimes I think I can and sometimes, I think it’s just my imagination.” 

Henry stood up from his spot rather suddenly. Without explanation, he took the bowl that Carol was holding in her hand—spoon and all—and started to walk away.

“Hey!” Carol called after him. “Cobbler thief! I wasn’t done with that.” 

Henry laughed and turned around. He had a devilish grin when he wanted to. Carol couldn’t help but smile in response to it. 

“I’m getting you some more,” Henry said. “Dad and Daryl aren’t the only ones that can take care of things.” 

Carol thought about telling him that she was really feeling a little full, and she didn’t really need another helping of cobbler. But she didn’t say anything because it was the thought behind it that really mattered.

And for Henry’s sake, she could choke down at least half a bowl of cobbler if she had to.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl wanted Carol and Henry to have time. He wanted them to have the opportunity to talk, or to be quiet, or to do whatever it was that they needed to do to clear the air. Carol needed peace—and maybe Daryl needed it every bit as much as she did—and she wasn’t going to get it until she and Henry had discussed everything and reached some kind of happy, common ground.

So, Daryl had done the only thing he’d known to do—he’d figured out how to make himself scarce.

He’d kept himself busy. Using a stirrup hoe, he’d cut the grass to keep snakes away from the house and to make it safe for them to be outside. While he’d worked on that, he’d walked the perimeter of their little lot and contemplated how he might extend the fences that surrounded the lot to swallow up more of the land around them. He considered simply fencing in what he wanted to add and then creating a gate so that the house was never unprotected.

That was a project for another day, though, because he would have to make arrangements for locating the necessary supplies. 

The small storage shed out back, in addition to tools that Carol had put there like the stirrup hoe, held a few other things that the previous occupants of the house had left behind. Some outdoor chairs for good weather were stored out there, so Daryl dragged them out and wiped them down to rid them of spiders. He cleaned up the porch of the little house and tore down the old wasps’ nests and spider webs, and then he put the chairs on the porch so that there was somewhere to sit.

It would come in handy, at least, when he wanted somewhere to smoke and watch Dog while he pissed on everything in the yard. 

Lastly, Daryl shoveled the built up ashes out of their fire pit, made note that he would look for rocks to make a better pit, and then he settled down in one of the porch chairs to enjoy the fruits of his labor while giving Carol and Henry space.

He was just beginning to let his mind wander and to start thinking about the fact that, really, he hadn’t given himself time to really think too much in the past few days, when he suddenly found himself not entirely alone—and it wasn’t Dog’s company that interrupted Daryl’s solitude. 

Henry didn’t say anything at first. He stood by the door and stared at the chairs like they were potentially dangerous. Daryl watched him out of the corner of his eye and lit a cigarette. 

“Where’s your mom?” Daryl asked, forcing Henry to acknowledge that he could see him.

“She’s taking a nap,” Henry said. 

Daryl laughed to himself, immediately struck by that information.

“For real, though, what’s she doin’?” Daryl asked.

“She’s taking a nap,” Henry repeated.

Daryl took a drag on the cigarette. He tapped the chair next to his. 

“You can sit in it, if you want,” Daryl said. “It’s clean. They seem pretty sturdy. Found ‘em in that lil’ shed.”

Henry eased close to the chair like he had to sneak up on it and catch it before it ran away. It was a common, plastic, Adirondack chair. It stayed obediently in place until Henry finally took a chance and eased down to sit in it. Daryl let him settle a moment before he spoke to him again.

“Your Mom don’t hardly sleep at night,” Daryl said. “And she can’t stand to even be off her feet during the day. She’s too afraid she’ll miss something these days. And before? In the beginning, she was too afraid that someone would find some fault with what the hell she was doing. Like if she sat down, the whole world would come to an end. Someone might die if she didn’t serve ‘em the moment they thought about needin’ something. She don’t nap.”

“She does today,” Henry offered. “She was yawning. I told her to take a nap. She said she thought she would and…she curled up on the couch. I covered her up with that blanket that was on the back of the couch.” 

Daryl sat there a moment and thought about it. 

Maybe it was possible that Carol was taking a nap, after all. Maybe she was tired. Maybe the baby needed sleep or something and had its ways of forcing her into sleeping even though she normally wouldn’t do that in the middle of the day. 

Daryl knew very little about babies and, honestly, that worried him. 

Of course, it was also possible that Carol was simply napping because Henry had asked her to nap. Maybe she was simply pretending for his benefit. She was that kind of mother—she was the kind of mother that would do just about anything for her child just to make them feel a little bit better.

Daryl did know a good mother when he saw one.

Daryl also had some understanding of teenage boys, especially those that had a particular hunger to have approval, affection, and stability. He might not have really found it, but he knew what it was to crave it. 

“She’s probably just tired,” Daryl said, “from the trip and all. Been a—been a busy couple days. Lot goin’ on.” 

“She’s been worried,” Henry said.

Daryl hummed. 

“About the baby,” Daryl said. “Yeah. I guess—it ain’t no reason to keep it a secret from you. She’s scared something’s gonna happen to it. Like—she’ll wake up in the morning and it just won’t be there no more, I guess. To tell you the truth, I don’t exactly how those things happen, but I do know they happen. She’s just worried that…it’ll happen.”

“Because she lost her daughter,” Henry offered. “Sophia.”

“That,” Daryl said. His stomach twisted a little as the memory of Sophia—stumbling out of the barn as a Walker—flashed before his eyes. The twisting intensified as he remembered her telling him about what had happened at a little house before she reached Terminus. “She’s—had a hard time.”

“Dad said she was scared of losing me,” Henry said. 

“She mighta been,” Daryl said. He stared at Henry and took the final drag off his cigarette before he flicked the butt into the yard. “She got any reason to be worried about that? I’ve—uh—I’ve got a lot of interest in helpin’ your mom through this. Makin’ sure that she doesn’t have to worry about things, at least as far as I can help it, and if that’s somethin’ she oughta worry about, then I’d like at least a heads up.” 

Henry laughed to himself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Henry said. “she’s my mom.”

“I get that,” Daryl said. “And I appreciate the sentiment. What I was mostly wondering was if you intended to—not so much as go away entirely, but mostly go away. And, if, while you were around, you were thinkin’ about steadily dragging her feelings through the damn mud because you’re pissed off or—whatever.”

Henry raised his eyebrows at Daryl and Daryl raised his in response. Carol might not approve of him being quite so direct with Henry, but he didn’t really know any other way to be. He might pretend his lawn chair was a throne and pontificate at Henry for an hour or two like his father did, but that wasn’t really Daryl’s style. 

“Can I ask you something?” Henry asked.

“I don’t care,” Daryl said. “Ask away.” 

“You mean that?” Henry asked.

“What?” Daryl asked.

“Do you mean that—I can ask you whatever I want to ask you?” 

Daryl considered it. That question sounded a great deal more loaded than the question before it had sounded. Still, this was Carol’s son. If he stayed—and Daryl desperately hoped he stayed for Carol’s sake—he was going to be part of Daryl’s life, even if they hadn’t worked out exactly what their relationship might be.

“Ask me what you want,” Daryl said. “But it’s a two-way street.”

Henry nodded his head.

“Any time I want?” Henry asked.

“If it’s appropriate,” Daryl said. “But—like I said, two-way street.”

Henry nodded his head again. 

“Do you love her?” Henry asked.

Daryl laughed to himself.

“Boy, you jump right to it,” he said. “Thought I was bein’ too direct.”

“I mean it,” Henry said. “I want to know. She says she loves you. She says she loves you like she doesn’t love anyone else. She says she loves you like she’s never loved anybody before.” He shook his head at Daryl. “She’s not ashamed to say it. So, I want to know, do you love her?” 

Daryl’s pulse picked up. 

He wasn’t one to say the words, mostly because he hadn’t used them all that much in his life. They tasted foreign on his tongue, even though they practically echoed in his ears like a heartbeat when Carol was around. Carol accepted that he sometimes had difficulty with words. She accepted that he might not always say what he was thinking. 

But he wanted to learn to say the words more often. He wanted to say them freely and openly. The way to do that, perhaps, was to practice. Daryl remembered what Ezekiel had told him—it would matter to Henry.

Daryl cleared his throat.

“I—love your mom,” Daryl said. It didn’t sound as strange as he’d feared it would. “I never really loved that much before, so I can’t say that I have a lot to compare it, too, but I do know—I know what I feel.”

“And you love her more than you’ll ever love anyone else?” Henry asked.

“Never loved anyone like her before,” Daryl said. “And—I don’t imagine that it’s gonna change. At least—I’m not going looking for it.”

“So, you want—the happily ever after, too?” Henry asked.

Daryl laughed to himself.

“Ain’t that what everybody wants?” Daryl asked. “Hell—I don’t have to run a whole damn Kingdom to wanna find myself a queen an’ live happily ever after.” 

“And Mom’s your queen?” Henry asked.

“You see anybody else in my life?” Daryl asked. “Henry—I know you love the hell outta your mom. And I ain’t never gonna try to stop that or come between you or nothin’. She loves you even when she’s not awake. She’s in there, hopefully passed out and sleepin’ good, and she’s still just steady lovin’ you. I won’t stand between her and anything that makes her happy. More’n that? I want her to have whatever makes her happy, even if it don’t make me happy. So, if you’re worried that I’m some kinda sonofabitch that come here to—snatch your mom away, take her off somewhere, and make her miserable? You got the whole wrong idea. I won’t hurt her on purpose, and I don’t intend to let no damn body else hurt her, either.”

“Even if it’s me?” Henry asked. Daryl smirked. He thought he heard a bit of challenge in the boy’s voice. 

“It’s the only damn time you an’ me would have trouble,” Daryl said. “But I’ma tell you right now, same as my brother told me, it’s always best not to start a fight you ain’t got a snowball’s chance in hell to win.” 

“Maybe I feel the same way,” Henry said. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Then we got a lot in common,” Daryl said. “But you didn’t exactly answer my question. Just ‘cause you don’t want her to get hurt, don’t mean you don’t never hurt her. You gonna run off?”

“I’m here,” Henry offered.

“You gonna—drag her feelings through the damn mud?” Daryl asked. “Make her feel like shit ‘cause you’d rather she was at the Kingdom with your dad?” 

“I talked to both of them,” Henry said. “And I realized that it’s not about what I want. At least, not entirely. So now I just want them both to be happy.” 

“That’s big of you,” Daryl offered.

“And if you’re what makes mom happy,” Henry said, though he left the statement open-ended. Daryl laughed to himself.

“Does that mean I got your blessing or some shit?” Daryl asked. 

“Just don’t make me regret it,” Henry said. 

Daryl swallowed down his amusement. 

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t.” 

“I brought stuff with me,” Henry said. “Some clothes and—a few things I’d like to have around.” 

“I know,” Daryl said. “Take either room you want, but the one on this side of the house is a little bigger. We gonna clear out the other room for the baby eventually.” 

“I know,” Henry said. “I unpacked. I’ll probably go back to the Kingdom tomorrow or the day after…”

“Whatever you want,” Daryl said. 

“I thought I might leave my stuff here, though,” Henry said. “So—I could come back any time I wanted. And I wouldn’t have to, you know, pack things.”

Daryl was relieved to hear that Henry intended to return with some frequency. That knowledge would make Carol rest better. At least she wouldn’t feel like Henry was abandoning her or punishing her for some perceive abandonment on her part.

“Good,” Daryl offered.

“You don’t mind?” Henry asked.

“Mind what?” Daryl asked.

“Me leaving my stuff here,” Henry said. “Coming back—whenever I want.” 

“Long as you come regular enough to suit your mom,” Daryl said, “I don’t care how you handle your comin’ an’ goin’.” 

“I didn’t want to interrupt anything,” Henry said. “Now that you two are living out here.”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, “we’ll tone down the wild-ass parties when we see you comin’. Listen—you come when you want. Your mom would like to see more of you and I already spoke my peace. You don’t hurt her and you and me ain’t gonna have no trouble. That’s all I really gotta say about it.” 

Henry laughed quietly beside Daryl.

“You’re right, then,” Henry said. “We do have a lot in common.”


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol closed the bedroom door behind her on her last trip to the bedroom. 

“He’s asleep,” she said with a sigh. There was a smile playing at her lips and there was a lightness in her step. Daryl knew who she was talking about. Dog might very well be asleep, but he’d been passed out on the rug since not too long after he ate his dinner and, though Carol was affectionate with the animal, she wouldn’t be reporting on his sleep patterns. 

They had eaten and, after dinner, Henry had helped Carol clean the kitchen while Daryl had pumped water and heated it for baths for everyone. The house was still and quiet now. Daryl was reading one of the books that he snagged from the Hilltop by lamplight while he waited for Carol to finish what felt like her tenth trip around the house to make sure that everything was how she needed it to be before she closed her eyes.

When she came into the room with an air of finality, Daryl put the book on the nightstand and patted the mattress beside him. Carol smiled at him and walked around the bed. She crawled onto her side of the mattress and Daryl waved at her to turn around. She did what he asked and he moved her braid over her shoulder so that he could reach her neck and shoulders to knead the muscles there.

Immediately, she slumped a little with the pleasure and groaned at him in a way that had him mentally telling parts of his body to wait their turn—if they were patient, there was a chance that they might have some input in the way the evening went.

“You glad to have him here,” Daryl said. 

“I know he’s—almost grown,” Carol said. “And I know he doesn’t need his mother and I probably shouldn’t check on him…and he’s going to be starting his own life soon…”

“But you love him,” Daryl said. “And there’s nothin’ wrong with that, and it doesn’t ruin his chances at having a life because you checked to see if he was sleeping. Right now? It does you good. You’ve still got knots as big as baseballs in your back and shoulders, but they ain’t as tight as they were.” 

Carol hummed at him.

“Because you’re taking such good care of me,” she offered. 

There was a flutter in Daryl’s gut over the words of appreciation and approval. 

“I want to,” he offered.

“You do,” Carol insisted.

“Not like—I want to,” Daryl said. He stopped massaging her shoulders and she turned around to look at him. Then she turned her whole body so that she could actually look at him without craning the neck that he’d just worked to relax a little.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“If I had been able to give you everything I wanted to,” Daryl said, “then you wouldn’t have ever needed to marry the King.”

“We were both in different places then,” Carol offered. 

“I left,” Daryl said. 

“I did too,” Carol said. “In my own way. Maybe we both did. We both—had things to deal with. Maybe we still do. I know—I know there’s still so much that I haven’t dealt with, Daryl. Not really. There’s still so much that I keep stuffing down every time it comes up. Maybe you have the same things to deal with—or your things, but…”

She sighed.

“I know what you mean,” Daryl offered.

She laughed to herself.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with my brain right now,” Carol said. “It’s like I can’t stay on one thought. I just—jump to something else right in the middle of my thought.”

“You’re tired,” Daryl offered. “Tired and you been worried and…you just gotta rest.”

“My point was that, maybe, we both left, but we never left each other entirely,” Carol said. “And now we’re here. I’m not planning on leaving again.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Daryl said. “Want to stay right here—because I know you’re happy here. But if I ever do have to leave again, I don’t want to leave without you.” 

Carol smiled at him. She puckered her lips at him and he leaned into her to steal a kiss from her lips. 

“Or her?” Carol asked.

“Or her,” Daryl said with a laugh. “But I’m not used to the idea that—this ain’t always a package deal. I’m not used to the idea that, one day, you and her are going to be two entirely separate people.”

“Give it some time,” Carol said. 

“Henry asked me today if I love you,” Daryl said. 

“Can I ask you what you told him?” Carol asked.

“If you gotta ask me what I told him, then I done a shittier job at this than I thought,” Daryl said. He got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. It functioned for little more than a place to keep a piss bucket and a bowl of water. It was also a decent place for Daryl to stand and smoke so that he at least felt that some of the smoke drifted out of the bathroom window and not back on Carol. 

She never complained either way, but he figured he’d do his best to be at least somewhat respectful of the air that was getting filtered through to the baby she carried.

“I know you love me,” Carol said. “Or—I believe you do. But…”

“Go ahead,” Daryl pressed, lighting his cigarette and pushing Carol to continue talking once she tried to stop.

“I might like to hear it every now and again,” Carol offered.

Daryl nodded. 

“That’s fair,” he offered. “I do. I love you. I mean—like I told Henry, I don’t have all that much to compare it to, but I know that I love you as much as I’ve ever loved anybody.”

Carol laughed to herself.

“And I love you as much as I’ve ever loved anybody,” Carol said.

“But see, I knew that,” Daryl offered.

“Because I say it more often,” Carol said. “But—isn’t it still nice to hear?” 

“It is,” Daryl ceded. “And I’ma do better. This is a whole new life, right? For both of us.”

“We get to start over,” Carol said.

“You might be startin’ over,” Daryl said. “But it’s like I’m not even doing that. This? It’s like—nothin’ I’ve ever experienced before. I’ve never had a…a…a woman before.”

Carol smiled. It was sincere, though, and not at all the expression she gave him when she was giving him shit. 

“What?” He asked.

“I like the sound of being your woman,” Carol offered.

“Shut up,” Daryl said. “You want me to call you queen or somethin’? That better?” 

“I’m being serious, Daryl,” Carol said. “I’d rather be—I’d rather be your woman a thousand times over being the King’s queen.” 

“You know he calls me your beau?” Daryl said. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” 

Carol laughed.

“He calls you my Wildman when you’re not around,” Carol said. “Do you prefer that?”

Daryl considered it. While he walked a few short paces around the bathroom.

“I do, actually,” he said. “You can tell his majesty that I’d rather be a Wildman than a beau if it ain’t gonna be my name that comes up most often in his little fantasy land.” 

“Then I’ll make sure that he knows,” Carol said. “And I stand by what I said. I’d rather be a Wildman’s woman than a King’s queen any day.”

“I don’t know how to do any of this,” Daryl said. “I mean—to be a Wildman I don’t guess takes much work, but—the rest of this? Being a good man to you and taking care of you like I want, givin’ you everything I want, takin’ care of…of a baby? Carol, I’m way fuckin’ over my head. And I don’t know what I’m doing and it kind of makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Like you want to run for it, again?” Carol asked.

“I’m not going to run,” Daryl said. “But that’s the feeling.”

“You’re taking care of me,” Carol said. “And I know a little bit about babies, you know. I could teach you what you want to know about—anything. This is new to you, Daryl. But it’s new to me, too.”

Daryl finished his cigarette and came out of the bathroom. For good measure, he closed the bathroom door behind him to try to get the smoke to waft out of the window in his absence. 

“That’s just it,” Daryl said. “It’s not new to you. You know about babies, and you’ve been married before.”

“And the one thing I could teach you about marriage is how not to act,” Carol said, “but I don’t believe you’d act like that anyway. So, this is all new to me, too. When I was pregnant with Sophia…it was always better if we didn’t talk about it. It was certainly better if it wasn’t an inconvenience. And Ed didn’t want to see pictures of the baby or…any of that.”

Daryl came to her side of the bed and sat down. On the nightstand next to her side of the bed was the frame with the pictures in it. Daryl reached and picked it up. He let his eyes trail quickly over the already well-memorized pictures.

“She’s my daughter,” Daryl mused.

“She is,” Carol said. She crawled over behind Daryl and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She rested her chin on his shoulder and he let himself enjoy the hug and the feeling of pure and absolute affection wrapping around him. 

“I want you to talk about her,” Daryl said. “Makes her feel real.” 

“It does,” Carol agreed.

“Talk about every day,” Daryl said. “Whenever you want. And I want you to do whatever you got to do. Whatever you feel like doing. You ain’t an inconvenience and she ain’t an inconvenience. If it weren’t for her? I might still be in the fuckin’ woods right now. Mighta wintered hard out there while you was still at the Kingdom. If it weren’t for her? We mighta never made it here for more than a night or two. I want you to tell me—everything that you wanted before. Everything you never did and never got…and never got to do. I want’cha to have it all. Do it all. Hell—I might not be perfect, and I might not be able to give you everything, but I want a chance to give you everything I can.”

“I think you’re pretty close to perfect,” Carol offered.

Carol kissed the side of his face softly. A shiver ran through Daryl’s body and she laughed quietly. She felt the shiver, too, and she responded to it by teasing him and nipping at his ear before she kissed down his neck. He changed his position slightly as her interest ran through him.

“You tryin’ to kill me,” he said. 

“I’m trying to love you,” Carol said. 

“You about to start something that you probably don’t mean to start,” Daryl offered. “You keep kissin’ me like that.”

Carol laughed quietly and did just that. She kissed him again—soft and wet. She trailed her kisses down his neck, sucking and nipping at his skin. 

“Shit…” Daryl responded. “You don’t know what the hell you doin’ to me.”

Carol laughed quietly and blew her breath against his ear. She reached around him and rubbed him through the cotton of his underwear.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Carol said, her mouth close to his ear. “And from the feel of things? I’m not doing it too badly. Daryl—did you get around to oiling the springs like you said you would?” 

“First damn thing I done when we got here,” Daryl said. “When I come in here to unpack some of that shit Ezekiel sent from the Kingdom.” 

Carol moved around Daryl then and pushed his shoulders so that he simply got onto the bed to make things easier for her. Teasing to draw it out and enjoy it longer was one thing—it was something they both enjoyed—but there was no need in pretending that either of them had any doubt where this was headed. As soon as he was more accessible, Carol leapt toward him and kissed him hard. 

There was a certain type of aggression in Carol’s kisses that hadn’t always been there. Maybe it came from the baby she carried. Maybe it came from the fact that they were unpacked and settled in the little house. Maybe it came from the confidence that Henry wasn’t going to turn his back on her and Daryl wasn’t going to leave her—even as far as the Kingdom, she was keeping her security. Maybe it was a bit of everything.

But Daryl appreciated the touch of aggression and hoped that it stayed, especially as it blended with the tenderness that he usually found with her. 

Carol took his hand and guided it to the band of her cotton panties. He rubbed the skin there for a moment before he slipped his hand further down. His fingers slid through the soft curls and found the spot she wanted him to find. She panted into his mouth before returning to the kiss and he worked the nub she’d sent him after. Then, he surprised her by sliding his hand forward and, finding his way through the slick folds of skin, he quickly hooked his finger inside of her and worked the nub with his thumb.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she broke the kiss with a gasp for air.

“Is that bad or good?” Daryl asked. He froze, not sure what to do.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, but he could feel her muscles squeezing him. She rocked her hips and Daryl returned to what he was doing. She went for his underwear and, tugging at it, she told Daryl what she wanted. She allowed him his hand back, trailing wetness between them, and he came out of his underwear while she slipped hers off. 

She was on top of him and had him fully seated inside her before he could even offer to help. 

He tugged at her nightgown.

“I hate this nightgown,” he offered. 

She laughed, moving her hips.

“What would you rather I wore?” She asked, helping him rid her of the offending garment.

“Nothing,” Daryl said. “But—there’s gotta be somethin’ better we can find you. Potato sack—bedsheet. Hefty bag.”

Carol put her hands on his chest and worked her hips. 

“Whatever you want,” she offered, “I’ll wear.”

“Sweet…fuck…” Daryl stammered out. “Holy…fuck…you really just…got this on your own.” 

Carol laughed, only stopping to growl out her own satisfaction.

“I can stop,” she offered.

Daryl wasn’t sure, though, how true that was. He didn’t want to find out, though. He dug his fingers into the soft skin of her ass to help support her as she searched for what she wanted which, happily, turned out to be everything that Daryl needed. She came first, but when her walls pulsed around him, Daryl lost any control that he had left.

Panting, she fell forward on him and he did little more than rearrange himself so that she could lay against him comfortably. He wrapped his arms around her and held her while they both waited for their breathing to return to normal.

“I love you,” Carol offered.

Daryl smiled to himself. It was his turn to put his money where his mouth was and use the words.

“I love you,” he assured her. He was certain that it would become easier and easier to put voice to the feeling. He smiled to himself and squeezed her gently. “And—you only love me for the oxytocin.”

Carol laughed. The laughter shook Daryl, too.

“That’s not true,” she said, kissing his neck where she could reach it.

“I know,” Daryl agreed. She laughed again. “What?”

“I also love you for—your ability to stop the bed from creaking,” Carol offered.


	17. Chapter 17

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl opened his eyes and felt the familiar twinge in his stomach—almost akin to the shock of realizing, suddenly, that he was falling when he thought he was on solid ground—that came with the view of a ceiling over his head. When he slept, his mind forgot where he was. He was so accustomed to waking up and seeing the canvas of his tent that he expected it when he woke now. A few days out of the tent wasn’t enough to erase the conditioning of years.

Immediately, though, the shock wore off. He felt a hand press against his chest in a warm and soothing way. He didn’t even need to look at her to know that she was there. She was touching him. She’d seen him jump upon waking and she’d pressed the hand gently to his chest as a quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone—in the best way possible.

Daryl sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Her fingers brushed across his skin.

He rolled slightly to the side to look at her. 

She had gone to bed with her hair in a neat braid. A couple of rounds of oxytocin-seeking, though, and a night of hard sleep meant that much of her hair had escaped her attempts to confine it. Some of it looped and curled and knotted over itself. Some of it stuck out as though she’d been recently electrocuted. Most of it spilled over the pillow where she rested her head and over the blanket that she’d pulled up over shoulders.

She touched him with one hand, and the other was tucked her head. Beneath the cover, Daryl was faintly aware of the coolness of the sheets—a testament to the fact that the fresh air coming in through the cracked windows was starting to mark the chill of a coming autumn—and the feeling of her foot brushing lightly against his shin and foot.

There was only the slightest hint of a smile on her face. Her eyes were slightly puffy with the recently departure of sleep. All of her other features looked as relaxed as he’d ever seen them.

Looking at her, at that moment, it made Daryl even more irritated that the Hilltop doctor—the only doctor currently available to any of them—had suggested that anything about Carol might be geriatric. She looked, to Daryl and in the moment, to barely be old enough to make it suitable that she was even in his bed—less likely that she was carrying his child and already the mother to a practically grown boy.

“Did something startle you?” Carol asked quietly.

“Not used to it yet,” Daryl admitted. His voice practically sounded rocky. His vocal cords were still sleeping.

“Regrets?” Carol asked.

He took her hand from his chest and she curled her fingers around his as he pulled her hand upward. He kissed her fingers.

“No,” he said, careful to make sure that there was enough force behind the word that she wouldn’t doubt him. She smiled sincerely and readjusted her position just a little. He felt her foot brush affectionately against his leg again. He smirked at her and raised his eyebrows. “A little terrified, though. How long you been lookin’ at me while I was asleep?” 

Her face told him the journey that she went through. She worried, for a moment, that he was serious. She was sorry for looking at him and maybe bothering him in some way. Then she registered that he was teasing and relaxed a little.

“I’ve been awake for a little while,” Carol said. “I had to pee. I couldn’t hold it and then—I couldn’t go back to sleep.” 

“So, you just been layin’ there?” Daryl asked.

“It was quiet,” Carol said. “And…cold. And I was just thinking—how good it felt.”

“Yeah?” Daryl asked.

“Yeah,” Carol said. Her cheeks blushed a light pink and the smiled returned to her features. Daryl’s heart suddenly started to beat a little faster. He didn’t want to do anything to disturb the feeling that had settled down around and between them both. It was like a cloud had settled in like a fog of happiness.

At least, Daryl knew that he felt happy. It was an odd sensation in his gut, and he was still learning to accept its presence there.

“You happy?” Daryl asked.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Carol hummed. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked. “Henry is sleeping in the other room and…you’re here.”

“You cold?” Daryl asked, noticing the way she had the blanket caught between her neck and shoulder. She was naked beneath it, as was he. He didn’t know, though, if her attachment to the cover had to do with being cold or enjoying the comfort it offered.

“Mmmhmmm,” Carol hummed again. “A little.”

As if to illustrate her point, she shivered slightly and rooted into the bed. It wasn’t cold, exactly. They kept the windows in the little house raised to keep air circulating throughout. Otherwise the house got stuffy and things started to mold and mildew where moisture got trapped inside. 

“Come on over here,” Daryl said. “Let me warm you up.” 

Carol looked pleased with the idea and worked her body over toward Daryl. He rearranged himself so that she could rest her head on his arm. She laid on her back and he laid on his side, somewhat able to wrap around her as he pleased.

“This OK?” She asked.

“You comfortable?” He asked.

“Are you?” She challenged. 

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed.

“I mean—being here,” Carol said. 

Daryl laughed to himself. 

“You done asked me that once,” he offered. “I gotta answer it every five minutes from now until—until forever or whatever?” 

“Maybe just once or twice more,” Carol said. Daryl heard a hint of teasing in her voice, but there was something that made him feel like even her teasing was forced.

There were plenty of things that he needed reassurance about, especially in their relationship, and he didn’t know how long he’d require that of Carol. He needed reassurance that she didn’t regret her decision to give up her marriage—even though it had been a ruse—to Ezekiel. He needed reassurance that—even though he had a great deal to learn and wanted to learn much more—he was doing well at being the kind of man that she could and would voluntarily spend the rest of her life with. He needed reassurance that he was able to be everything he wanted to be. 

She offered him reassurance whenever he needed it or wanted it. He could offer her reassurance when she needed it, too.

“I got no regrets,” Daryl offered. “Right now? I’m the happiest I ever remember bein’ since I even had memories. You got regrets?” 

“I just told you I was happy,” Carol said with a laugh.

“Maybe you just tell me once or twice more,” Daryl said, he nuzzled against her face and she hummed in satisfaction.

“I have everything I could need or want,” Carol said. “I don’t think I could be happier.” 

Daryl slipped his free hand under the cover that he was careful to keep pulled up for warmth. He let his fingers slide over Carol’s breasts—one and then the other—stopping only long enough to tease her nipples until she moaned at him and they stood at attention. He felt the goosebumps rise up on her skin as he ghosted his fingers down her body and found the gentle swell of her belly. He rested his hand over her skin.

“You didn’t mention her,” Daryl said.

“What?” Carol asked.

“You mentioned Henry,” Daryl said. “You mentioned me. But you ain’t said that she makes you happy.” 

“I forget she’s there,” Carol said. She lifted enough to free her hand from under her head and against Daryl’s arm. She brought it down to rest over Daryl’s hand. “Michael said I should be able to feel her.”

“He said if you’d get still and calm and stop just tellin’ yourself you couldn’t feel her, then you’d prob’ly feel her,” Daryl said. “He thinks you doin’ it with your mind. That you’re makin’ yourself not feel her.”

“He thinks it’s psychosomatic or something that I can’t feel her,” Carol said, continuing to echo a few of the words that the doctor had offered on his numerous visits, during their day at the Hilltop, when he’d come to check Carol’s vitals.

“You scared, so you’re dealin’ with that by ignoring her presence,” Daryl said.

Carol laughed to herself. She closed her eyes and sunk back against Daryl’s arm. She rooted into him a little. Daryl didn’t know if it was in search of warmth or comfort, but he’d gladly give her both.

“I want to feel her,” Carol said. She practically breathed out the words. “So badly, Daryl. I want to feel her little…her little kicks and rolls. I want to know she’s there and growing and—happy.” 

“So, relax,” Daryl said softly. “Keep calm. Feel her.”

“I’m as calm and happy as I think it’s possible to be right now,” Carol said. “And—nothing.” 

Daryl laughed to himself.

“Maybe she’s asleep,” he offered. “Hell—I mean she can’t run around in there all the time, can she? Gotta sleep sometimes. And you’ve been pretty tightly strung for a while. Maybe you bein’ happy an’ all feels good to her an’ she just wants to be happy and sleep.” 

Carol opened her eyes and smiled at him. She raised her eyebrows slightly.

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?” Carol asked.

Daryl swallowed. Her words struck him. Her tone, too, struck him. She was teasing, but she wasn’t really teasing him.

“Thought about it most the night,” Daryl said. “About what we talked about last night. Ed—had everything. You and Sophia. And he just threw that shit away.” 

“Ed didn’t want what he had,” Carol said. “He wanted better.” 

Daryl could feel an acute shortness of breath aching in his lungs as he tested the words he dared to say before he let them leave his mouth. His body felt a little weak with the anticipation of Carol’s reaction to the words. Even though part of him knew that she would want to hear them, another part of him deeply feared her rejection at the precise moment when he mustered up the courage to release them into the world.

“No such thing,” he offered.

Carol responded with a warm smile.

“You might change your mind,” Carol said. “I’ve been told that—living with me is what does it.” 

She meant to tease him, but the reality of her words hit him like a hard blow to the gut.

“Don’t’cha say that no more,” Daryl said. “I heard his fuckin’ voice just now—an’ I don’t want him in my house an’ I damn sure don’t want him in my bed.” 

“OK,” Carol said softly. She didn’t really have to say anything else. There was nothing else that needed to be said. 

“I meant what I said,” Daryl said. “About—I wanna know about all of it. Everything you feel. Everything you never done. Everything you wanted to do. I wanna know—how the hell I do this right. Be good to you. To Henry, even. To her.” 

“I think you’re off to a really good start,” Carol said. 

The sincerity of her words, the smile that followed them, and the look in her eyes all released a rush of warmth that flooded through Daryl’s chest. 

“Yeah?” He asked softly. He moved his hand enough to rub it over her skin where it still rested on her belly. She bunched her fingers, rubbing his beneath her own.

“Yeah,” she assured him. “I—wish you could feel her.” 

Daryl’s stomach tightened. One day there would be something there. One day he’d feel the baby in question as she grew inside her mother. 

One day she’d be there and he’d hold her in his arms. He could barely imagine such a thing.

“You gotta feel her first,” Daryl said. “I’m ready for that—because then you can tell me all about when she’s up to somethin’ and what she’s doing.”

Carol smiled to herself.

“You’d get tired of hearing about it,” Carol offered.

“Why don’t you do me a favor,” Daryl offered, trying to bite back the little bit of frustration that surged inside him, “and let me decide what I get tired of and what I don’t?” Carol looked more than a little scolded. “I’m sorry—but I do get tired of you tellin’ me what I’m gonna like or not like.” 

Carol could make her face like a wall when she wanted to. She could erase every last trace of emotion from her features. She steeled herself against whatever was coming next—or whatever she might imagine or fear was coming next. She steeled herself against whatever she might feel inside. Daryl felt her body tense. It would have been imperceptible if he hadn’t been holding her so close.

The only thing that really gave away any emotion was her eyes. Someone had once said that eyes were the windows to the soul. The words had always stuck with Daryl since the first time he’d heard them. Carol was the first person, though, that had ever truly taught him what that meant. In her eyes, he could see everything.

“Sorry,” he offered. “But I’m not Ed.”

“I know you’re not,” Carol said.

“But sometimes you forget,” Daryl said.

“I don’t forget,” Carol said.

“But you get afraid,” Daryl said. She didn’t respond and she didn’t have to. Her eyes told him what he needed to know. He nodded his head. “I understand,” he said. “Better’n you think.”

“I know,” Carol said.

“I get afraid you gonna—change your mind,” Daryl said. “Decide I’m not good enough. Realize you could do better.” 

“I couldn’t ever do better,” Carol offered. “I’ve got the best.”

“I get afraid you’re gonna—regret everything we’ve ever done,” Daryl said. “Just—be gone. Like everybody else.” 

Under the cover, Carol moved her fingers to hook them around his hand. She squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture, both of their hands still resting against her body.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said. “You can believe me.”

“Yeah—well, I’m not gonna get tired of you,” Daryl said. “You can believe me, too. And—I’m not a liar. I meant what I said. I know what I want.”

Carol nodded her head.

“Maybe I just don’t know what to share,” she said. “I don’t feel sick anymore. Not really at all. And I woke up this morning and—she’s still there, even though I’m sometimes afraid that she won’t be. I’m feeling good. Happy. Hopeful. I missed out on all that when I was pregnant with Sophia. Most of the time, when I was carrying Sophia, I just felt—afraid. Cautious. Like I didn’t want to wake the bear.”

“There ain’t no bears here,” Daryl offered. “But I get what you sayin’. It’s safe here, though. I’ma see to that. To the best of my ability. We both know a lot more than we used to about this world. This? We can do this. So—the only thing I want you to do right now is do what Michael said. Focus on listenin’ to you. To her. Figure out what you want an’ need. And then—you let me know.” 

Carol nodded her head. She picked her head up and Daryl realized what she wanted. He met her for a kiss and let her draw it out as much as she pleased. She squeezed his fingers beneath the blanket while she kissed him.

“Your son’s gonna be up soon,” Daryl offered as he broke the kiss. “If he ain’t already up. An’ if she ain’t up? She’s gonna be up soon, too. I’ma go see what I can do about breakfast.” 

“I should cook breakfast,” Carol said.

“I’m more’n capable of cooking breakfast,” Daryl said. “I wouldn’t mind the company, though.”

“First official family breakfast?” Carol asked.

Daryl smiled to himself.

“Sounds good to me,” he said.


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Henry warned Daryl and Carol both that he would be returning to the Kingdom for a few days, but he fully intended to return to the little house without much delay. He wanted to live his life in both places, and Daryl was thankful that he announced, so clearly, his intentions. Carol, Daryl knew, wouldn’t mind where Henry wanted to spend his time or how often he wanted to traipse from one location to another. The only thing that would keep her awake at night was not knowing where Henry was, not knowing if he was angry with her, and not knowing if he intended to return.

Henry swiftly and easily put her doubts to bed. He would be with either her or his father—an individual who was likely to visit the little house as often as Henry did. He wasn’t angry anymore, though he admitted to still needing time to adjust to the fact that his parents were living divided lives that, sometimes and in some ways, intercepted. And he fully intended to return with regularity. He didn’t mean to be gone long enough to make his mother worry or miss him too much.

To try and make it clear to Henry, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted him there and expected his return, Daryl had taken Henry out into the yard to look at the surrounding area. They could clear it. They could build additional fences. They could create farmland and even, across the road, room for a nice pasture. They could create something self-sustaining for their small family unit that would keep them from having to rely so heavily on the Kingdom to feed them. If they were fortunate, they could also produce something to give back to the neighboring community.

Daryl gave Henry responsibility—something the teenager seemed to be craving—in the form of asking him to make inquiries about acquiring the supplies necessary to build the fences and the barn. Then, he made the request of him that he return soon to help him start building the life that he wanted to provide for Carol. He reminded Henry that the sooner they started working, after all, the sooner Henry’s mother could have a milk cow, and the sooner they could be sure that they would be able to count on planting a garden for the coming year. 

When Henry left, he’d left happy with his assignment. He’d allowed Daryl to walk him back to the Kingdom to keep Carol secure in the knowledge that he was safe, and Daryl had allowed Jerry to haul him back to the little house in the wagon when Jerry had insisted on making the trip. 

Dusk was beginning to settle around them as they arrived at the house, and it was cooling dramatically. When fall settled over Virginia, it brought with it a cool crispness that was different than the lingering summer that Georgia usually saw throughout most of the transitional season. 

Daryl could smell the smoke in the cool air as they approached the house—evidence that Carol would have the fire going when he got there. He smiled to himself as they rode, realizing how incredibly domestic his life had become in the blink of an eye.

When he glanced at Jerry, the big man was grinning at him without shame.

“What?” Daryl asked. “What the hell you lookin’ at?” 

“His Majesty has told me how much you love the Queen,” Jerry offered. “I’m glad to see you’re so pleased with our approach to the residence.” 

Daryl shook his head. 

“You aren’t like a total headcase,” Daryl said. “So, you understand it’s all make believe, right? The whole—King and Queen thing?” 

Jerry continued to smile at him. 

“You understand that nothing’s really any more real than we believe it to be, right?” Jerry offered. 

Daryl accepted the man’s words after a second of chewing them over. 

“Known her for years,” Daryl said. “Feels like—maybe even a few lifetimes. Doesn’t seem like the same life now as I was living back then. When I first met her.” 

“And how long have you loved her?” Jerry asked.

“Usually I’d ask you to buy me a drink for we started talkin’ this serious about my damn love life,” Daryl offered in response. Jerry looked unbothered and undeterred. Daryl sighed. The man was large, he was friendly, and Carol had an incredible soft spot for him. Daryl already knew that he would count on the man to make him feel better by simply promising to stay near Carol if, for any reason, he had to leave her alone. He might as well count him as a friend. And, apparently, Jerry enjoyed a good love story as much as the next Kingdom-dweller. “I don’t know if I believe in love at first sight, exactly. Maybe that’s mostly because I had my hands full back then and she did too. But—it wasn’t long after I met her that I…maybe love isn’t the right word. But I knew something.” 

Jerry seemed satisfied with the answer. He smiled to himself and looked ahead as he slowly walked the horses down the road. It was familiar to Daryl and already starting to feel like home.

In the back of the wagon, a jug of milk rode along with two casseroles and two cobblers that King Ezekiel had insisted Daryl take to Carol. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that the jug of milk hadn’t tipped over and leaked into the back of the wagon. Carol would be pleased to see it. She’d mentioned milk earlier in the day—twice—and she could at least enjoy some of it that night.

“The Princess enjoys cobbler,” Jerry mused.

Daryl hummed.

“Or Carol does,” Daryl offered.

“The Queen has always enjoyed sweets,” Jerry said, “but she’s rarely indulged. It’s the Princess that convinces her to eat what she wants.” 

“If that’s the case, then the Princess is in the mood for milk, too,” Daryl said, reaching behind him and steadying the jug that he feared would tip as they rolled over the slightly rough road. He could see the chimney of the house and the smoke rising up. They’d be there in a matter of minutes. He didn’t want to lose Carol’s surprise with the house in sight.

“I’ll let the King know,” Jerry said. “He’ll be happy to have something to offer the Queen and the Princess.” 

“He’da found somethin’,” Daryl said. “I’m sure.”

When they reached the house, Jerry pulled the wagon to a stop outside the gate and locked the wheels so the horses wouldn’t move forward. He took the casseroles and cobblers from the back when Daryl reached for the milk jug.

“I got it,” Daryl offered, though he really wasn’t sure how to carry all of it. Jerry didn’t even entertain him. Instead, he immediately went toward the gate, shifted the four dishes in his arms, and opened the gate to let Daryl inside. Then he followed happily after Daryl with the food.

Carol met them both at the door and rushed to take the dishes from Jerry. He bypassed her entirely, though, and took them inside. Daryl followed after him and left the jug in the kitchen. For the moment, he ignored Carol’s questions about what he’d brought, and urged her to say her goodbyes to Jerry since he knew the man expected her affections.

“Jerry’s gotta be gettin’ back to the Kingdom,” Daryl said. “Gettin’ dark an’ he don’t wanna get stuck out there with the team.”

“I wish you weren’t alone,” Carol said. 

She was suddenly much more concerned than she would have normally allowed herself to be. She would have, perhaps, hidden it better in the past. This time, she wrapped her arms very affectionately around Jerry’s neck and hugged him, stepping up on her tiptoes as he hugged her back. He smiled, pleased with the affection, but looked at Daryl with raised eyebrows that told Daryl that he was also surprised by how much affection he was receiving. 

“I’ll be fine my queen,” Jerry assured her. 

She gave him a fake annoyed look, and Daryl thought he saw some dampness glitter in her eyes. She turned quickly to face Daryl. 

“You should have asked for someone else to ride so that Jerry wasn’t going back alone,” she scolded. 

Daryl laughed to himself.

“I’m not his keeper,” Daryl said. “It was his choice to come alone. I didn’t even ask for a ride. I was gonna walk back until what I was bringin’ back just kept growin’.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl caught Jerry’s movements. With a broad smile across his lips, Jerry rocked an invisible baby and patted his somewhat remarkable belly. When he patted his belly, Carol turned to see what he was doing, and he covered it over by pretending to scratch an itch.

“I’ll enjoy the ride,” Jerry said. “And I’ll be back, safely inside the Kingdom’s fences, before it’s dark enough to worry. Sleep well.” 

Jerry offered Carol another hug, which she took, and then he patted her belly without invitation. She didn’t seem to mind, though, and instead she smiled at his tender gesture. She walked him out to the porch and stood there watching until he’d stepped out of the gate, secured it behind himself, mounted the wagon, and started back toward the Kingdom. Then she called Dog back from his trip around the yard. He’d already pissed on everything, there was no need for him to linger too long.

When they stepped back inside, Carol went to the kitchen and let Daryl know that there was hot water, even though he’d already seen it on the stove when he’d passed through before. They had a metal tub that was large enough to use as a bathtub that Carol had snagged from the Kingdom when she’d first started staying in the house. Daryl pulled it down and helped her to put enough of the hot water and some cooled water to make a decent bath for herself. 

Preferring to wash the old-fashioned way with a rag and a pot of water, Daryl simply stood on a towel in the kitchen and bathed—allowing the heat from the wood stove to keep the room warm for both of them—while Carol bathed, in the kitchen, in her tub. He certainly didn’t mind the view, though she didn’t seem to even notice him ogling her as she piled her hair high on her head and tied it up before stripping off her clothes and easing herself down into the metal tub.

She was incredibly beautiful, and Daryl wanted to tell her so, but the words got stuck in his throat. The words remained stuck there even as he dried and dressed in clean clothes, emptied Carol’s tub, and put it back against the wall until she needed it again. When she’d left the room, he’d set about warming milk on the stove. 

Daryl only managed to get his words unstuck whenever Carol came back from the bedroom where she’d exchanged her towel for a nightgown.

Daryl smiled when he saw her. Her hair was still piled on top of her head and tied there. Bits of it spilled out and curled around itself in places. In place of the hideous, over-sized monstrosity that she’d been wearing to sleep, she was wearing one of his long-sleeved button-up shirts. It was light blue and it was over-sized, but it hung over her body in a much more pleasing way. The shirt was large, even for Daryl, and it stopped just over the tops of Carol’s thighs. The buttons that ran down the front of it drew a crooked line as they did their best to march over the slight swell of her stomach. 

Daryl’s stomach knotted up at the sight of her. She smiled at him.

“Better?” She asked. “You said you hated my nightgown, but...I didn’t have anything else.” 

“Beautiful,” Daryl said. 

Carol laughed to herself. 

“I didn’t know you were so attached to the shirt,” she teased. Daryl couldn’t help but smile to himself at the way she wiggled a little nervously on her sock-covered feet.

“Weren’t talkin’ about the shirt,” Daryl said. “You look—incredible. But I don’t want you catchin’ your death just because you walkin’ around without pants.” 

“There’s a blanket on the couch,” Carol offered. “And the fire.”

“Milk’s warm,” Daryl offered, pouring it into mugs. He had absolutely no desire to drink the milk—nor to eat any of the casserole or cobbler he fully intended to practically force Carol to consume in large quantities—but he’d have a little of everything because he knew that she wouldn’t want it if she was the only one that was partaking.

Carol’s soft smile renewed. She rubbed her hand over her belly. Daryl wasn’t even sure if she realized she’d performed the gesture. 

“That’s what’s in the jug? You brought milk for me?” Carol asked. 

Daryl nodded his head. 

“For you an’ her,” Daryl said. “And casserole so you don’t got to cook nothin’ tonight. And cobbler—‘cause I know you both like it.” 

If such a thing had been possible, Daryl would have sworn that Carol’s big blue eyes grew even bigger as she stood there looking at him. He felt a little overwhelmed by the feelings that surged up inside of him. 

But they were safe, and she was happy, and it was time to start making this truly feel like their home. It was time to start accepting everything that neither of them had ever fully believed was possible. 

Daryl picked up the mugs of warmed milk and squeezed them in his hands. He didn’t want the milk to cool down too much before she had a chance to drink it. 

“Let’s go in the den,” Daryl said. “Get that blanket. Don’t want’cha to get cold.”

Carol smiled at him, but she turned and left the kitchen at his request.

“Oh, I have a feeling I’ll be plenty warm,” she offered, obeying his request and heading for the living room while he brought the mugs. 

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

AN: This is an odd thing to say, but I’m kind of ignoring Carol’s wig on the show, especially the old one. I always imagined Carol’s hair would be curly (like Melissa’s) if she were to grow it out. So it shall be in my story. I hope that doesn’t bother anyone.

I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Maybe the baby she carried made her tired. Maybe it was simply carrying a baby at her age that assured that she had relatively little energy before it was dramatically late in the evening. Maybe it was simply because, for once, absolutely everything was right in her world for just a single moment, and her body was seeking to relax entirely in the precious peace that she’d found.

Or maybe it was simply because Daryl had seen to it that she ate her way through a large helping of casserole, a large helping of cobbler, and then he’d had her wash it all down with a second mug of warm milk. The result of which was that, almost full to bursting, Carol was entering into something of a food coma.

Whatever the reason, she stretched out on the couch with her body against Daryl’s. He held her as much in his arms as he possibly could. He vaguely had to piss, and one of his legs was somewhat going to sleep, but he’d stay in just that position for the rest of the night if she’d remain there, like that, curled up in his arms.

Her eyes were barely slits. Her eyelids were visibly heavy. With her head resting against him, though, she seemed content to hover just outside of sleep.

Daryl moved the one hand he felt wasn’t supporting her to rest it on her belly, under the blanket. He spread his fingers out and covered the majority of the bump that marked the presence of their growing daughter. Carol sucked in a breath and sighed it out, slowly and steadily, before she covered his hand with her own. Daryl smiled to himself and at her by extension.

“Hard to believe she’s there,” Daryl said.

“She’s there,” Carol breathed out.

“She’s growin’,” Daryl offered.

“That’s mostly just food,” Carol said, yawning to close out her words.

Daryl laughed to himself.

“But it’s the food that’s gonna help her grow,” Daryl said. “You keep eatin’ like that an’ she’s gonna be big and strong.”

“If I keep eating like that,” Carol said, “I’m going to be huge. I don’t know about her.” 

“This ain’t the damned time to worry about dieting,” Daryl said. “You eat anything and everything she wants. Everything you want. Long as we got it.”

Carol rooted into him a bit more.

“Are you happy she’s a…girl?” Carol asked.

Daryl heard hesitation in her voice. She stammered over the word in a way that made his stomach muscles bunch in reaction. Under the blanket, he moved his fingers enough to find the bottom of the shirt she was wearing—his shirt turned hers—and he slipped it up enough to let his fingertips touch her warm, bare skin. 

Beneath her skin, perhaps not too far that he couldn’t feel the baby if he knew what he was feeling for, the tiny figure he’d seen sucking her fingers and trying to hide was sleeping. However she went about doing the things she needed to do, she was drinking in the nutrition that her mother would provide to her from the filling meal. She was enjoying the relaxed vibes her mother was putting out, and, maybe, she was hopeful for a hit of the hormone that theoretically made both of them feel at least a little euphoric.

Daryl didn’t know if the baby had any actual sentience or if, in reality, she was just some kind of unthinking creature that didn’t have any actual consciousness until she came into the world. But it made him happy to think of her as being fully aware and fully an individual. 

“I think about Judith,” Daryl said. “When she was born and…what she is now. I think about Sophia.” He noticed Carol’s shifting as she readjusted herself and he didn’t complain that she reminded him of his rapidly filling bladder. “I couldn’t imagine her being anything else. You want me to be honest? When we went in there, I didn’t know what I wanted one way or another. Hell—I don’t think I had even really accepted that there was a real baby growin’ inside you and that it could really be mine.” 

“But you do now?” Carol asked.

“I saw her,” Daryl said, smiling to himself. “Same as you. I can’t deny what I saw.”

“And now you’re happy she’s…you didn’t want a boy?” Carol asked.

“Once I knew she was a girl,” Daryl said, “I realized that’s what I wanted all along. I just didn’t know it.”

“Ed would have preferred if Sophia had been a boy,” Carol said. “He would have preferred to have a junior, you know?” 

“Don’t half the people alive care what anybody’s name is these days,” Daryl offered. “And I don’t give a shit if anybody remembers me or my last name. It ain’t like Dixon’s no amazing name to have, I guess. Plenty of bad shit connected to it, I guess.”

“I like it,” Carol offered. “Daryl Dixon. It’s a beautiful name to me.”

Daryl smiled to himself.

“It’d sound better if—you were to take it,” Daryl said. “Carol Dixon don’t sound too bad.” 

Carol laughed to herself. 

“Carol Dixon?” 

“You prefer Her Majesty?” Daryl asked, a little offended by her tone of voice. Carol pulled away from him and sat up, sitting beside him on the couch. She raised her eyebrows at him half in amusement and half in warning that she intended to scold him if necessary.

“What I’d prefer is if you didn’t throw that in my face every time you got the chance,” Carol responded. Daryl felt the sting of her words.

Now that his hands were free and there was a small plot of couch between them, Daryl held his hands up in mock surrender. 

“I gotta piss,” he warned Carol, “but when I get back, we gonna continue this. I ain’t throwin’ nothin’ in your face. Just—tellin’ you I wish you’d at least consider…ya know…takin’ my name. Usin’ it.” 

Daryl got up and opened the door to the house. He let Dog out since the animal immediately bounded toward the door. He stepped out onto the porch and followed the dog into the yard. He chose his own spot to piss in the dark yard while Dog ran around and did his business before a quick border patrol of the whole fenced in area.

Around them, Daryl heard nothing but silence. He smelled nothing but the smoke of the fireplace drifting out the chimney.

Maybe Carol was a touch hormonal and a touch too defensive, but Daryl decided that he wasn’t going to point that out to her. He also wasn’t going to use that as a way of dismissing her entirely. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did have a few lingering bitter feelings over the fact that anyone had had some of her affections in the past. 

When he whistled for Dog, the dog came back and happily bounded up the steps and into the house. He went directly to the bed in front of the fire that Carol had made for him. Daryl lit one of the lamps they carried around and went directly into the kitchen to wash his hands in the pot full of washing water that waited there. 

Carol was gone, but not for long. She emerged from the dark bedroom with a pair of gray knit pants covering her legs. She washed her hands in the same pot that Daryl had used. She likely had gone to piss in the bathroom bucket instead of pissing in the yard like Daryl.

Daryl dried his hands on his pants and then he touched her face, brushing a piece of her hair back and tucking it behind her ear. 

“You really pissed at me?” He asked.

“I just wish you’d give me time to—to think. To speak. Before you’re ready to throw everything into my face.” 

“That’s fair,” Daryl offered. “Just—I get jealous sometimes. You were married to Ed. Then you did whatever the hell you were doin’ with Tobin.” 

“You weren’t interested,” Carol said. “No matter how hard I tried. There never had to be a Tobin.”

“I wasn’t ready,” Daryl said.

“And I needed something,” Carol said. She wouldn’t look at him. “You know I didn’t love him.”

“Which one we talkin’ about?” Daryl asked.

“Tobin,” Carol said. “Ed at the end. I loved him when we got married, though. I won’t lie about that.” 

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Daryl said. “I wouldn’t hold it against you if you loved Tobin. Hell—at least I’d know you were happy.”

“I wanted you,” Carol said simply. “But you didn’t want me.”

“I always wanted you,” Daryl said. “I just didn’t know what the hell to do about it.” Carol looked at him. The flame flickering in the little lamp on the table reflected the tears puddling in her eyes. Daryl reached his hand up and touched her face. “Can we leave the past where the hell it is? Just for a while? Not spend half the damn night diggin’ up bones? I wouldn’t trade this…what’s comin’? For all them years I was too damned dumb to have.” 

She covered his hand with hers and leaned her face into him. He felt the warm tear that escaped her eye and slid down her face to touch against his palm. She turned her face and kissed his palm where the tear had trailed.

“You want me to take your name?” She asked. He hummed at her. 

“Not like nobody would care or know,” Daryl said. “But…”

“We would know,” Carol offered.

“We would,” Daryl agreed. “I’d want the baby to take my name too, even if—she weren’t a Junior.” 

Carol smiled at him. She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand when she moved her face away from his hand. He dropped that same hand to her shoulder to squeeze at her muscles.

“I think—I wanted her to be a boy,” Carol said. 

“You ain’t happy with her?” Daryl asked. “Because she ain’t a boy? You don’t want her or something?” 

Carol shook her head. 

“It isn’t that,” she said. “It isn’t anything like that…but…”

“Go ahead,” Daryl urged when Carol hesitated. She excused herself a moment to rummage through a drawer near her and to come up with one of the cloth napkins that was little more than a handkerchief. She wiped at her face. “What is it, if it ain’t that?” Daryl pressed.

“Boys live,” Carol said. 

“What?” Daryl asked.

Carol shrugged her shoulders at him and frowned at her handkerchief. 

“I lost Sophia,” Carol said. “But—Lori never lost Carl as a child. No matter how much he disappeared or ran away or…did what he wanted to do. The world never got to him. He got to grow up. But the world—it got to Lizzie. And Lizzie got to Mika. And…I lost them all. I thought I’d lose Henry, but…thank God I haven’t. Thank God he’s a boy and he’s…he’s made it…”

Daryl wrapped his arms around Carol and pulled her close to him. She came awkwardly, but she allowed him to hold her.

“None of ‘em lived or died ‘cause they were boys or girls,” Daryl offered. “Not one of ‘em. It was just the world, Carol. It was what the hell was gonna happen. Good luck and bad.” 

Carol pulled away and frowned deeply at Daryl. She ran her hand over the swell of her belly. She left it resting over the spot where their daughter was, hopefully, napping and not experiencing the same suffering that her mother was currently undergoing. 

“It’s me. If it’s just luck, Daryl—I have bad luck with girls,” Carol said. 

“No,” Daryl said, shaking his head at her. “That ain’t true.” 

“It is true,” Carol said. “And now—she’s…”

“She’s fine,” Daryl said. “Needs to get bigger. Needs to grow more. But you got her tucked in there safe and sound.” He shook his head at her. “And Judith—she’s doin’ just fine. You had as big a hand in carin’ for her as anybody.” 

“She’s got everybody else,” Carol said.

“And her?” Daryl asked, gesturing toward Carol’s belly. “She’s got a whole fuckin’ Kingdom ready to rise up an’ fight for her ass. Got a Mama that’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known.” Carol shook her head at him, but Daryl ignored her. “And the name might not mean a lot,” Daryl said, “and it might not have produced fuckin’ kings, but there’s one thing Dixons are—and that’s some tough damn individuals. Can’t nobody kill a Dixon but a Dixon.” The words seemed to calm Carol a little. Slowly some of the tension released itself from her face. Daryl smiled at her, hoping to bring her around to the lightness she’d enjoyed earlier. He reached his hand out and touched her face. She flinched slightly. She hadn’t flinched away from him in a long time. Tonight was waking up a lot of old demons. He gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. “What you say?” He asked. “You gonna be a Dixon, too? I don’t know nobody that could carry the name—or carry a future Dixon, for that matter—better…”

“Does that mean you want me to be your wife?” Carol asked. 

Daryl smiled to himself. Everything about her flooded his senses with happiness—real happiness. Even dealing with the troubles of their pasts together didn’t seem so bad if he could do it with her. 

“You’re already my best friend,” he said. “My fuckin’ life. So whatever else you wanna be…” 

Carol smiled at him. She leaned forward and he tasted the kiss she pressed to his lips. He smiled at her when she pulled away. 

“That a yes?” He asked, catching her hands in his.

“I think—we’re as married as we can be,” Carol said. “Unless—you want a big show of things? You want to—give a…two-hour long speech like His Majesty?” 

Daryl laughed to himself. 

“I’d rather skip the speech and take my wife to bed,” Daryl offered. He patted her stomach. “If you think—she’s asleep an’ it won’t bother her.” 

Carol smiled at him. 

“About that,” she said, breathing out the words and holding his eyes with her own. Her eyes glittered in the lamplight and Daryl could see that she was watching him without blinking. She wanted to see his reaction. Maybe she even feared it a little. “I—might’ve lied before. Because I was scared.”

“About?” Daryl asked, his stomach churning with the possibility.

“I can feel her,” Carol admitted. “Not all the time and—not too strong, but I can feel her.” 

Daryl laughed at the relief that washed over him that the confession wasn’t something horrible.

“Why’d you lie about it?” Daryl asked.

“Because I was scared,” Carol admitted. “And I was scared that—if I admitted I could feel her, then I had to admit she was real and…it would hurt more when…”

Daryl nodded his understanding and shushed her to stop her before she could say something that would only hurt her more—and would hurt him to hear. He looped his arm around her before he reached for the lamp.

“She’s real,” Daryl said. “And you ain’t kryptonite. She movin’ now?” 

“A little bit,” Carol admitted. “I think.” 

“Then let’s go to bed,” Daryl said. “Enjoy it. You can tell me—all about it. Where you feel it. What it feels like. And then, when she’s gone on off to sleep? We’ll see if we can’t get her a shot of oxytocin to help her sleep better.”

Carol laughed at him and leaned into him as she walked.

“Daryl…” She said. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed.

“Thanks for making me feel better,” she offered sincerely. 

“Did it work?” 

“I think it did,” Carol said.

“You still scared?” Daryl asked.

“A little,” she admitted.

Daryl laughed to himself and squeezed her. 

“Fine,” he said. “Because I’m fuckin’ terrified.”

Carol laughed instead of being offended. She stopped walking and he looked at her, holding the lamp so that it illuminated her face.

“Are you serious?” She asked.

“I’m so damned scared I could piss myself. I have a home, a wife, a dog, a step-son…and a baby girl on the way. I’ve got everything I ever could have wanted, and I don’t have a fuckin’ clue what I’m doing right now.”

Carol smiled warmly. It was sincere, and Daryl felt it in his chest.

“Don’t worry,” she said. He felt, too, that she meant it. She might be falling apart herself, but for him she could be strong. “We’ll figure it out together.” 

“Damn sure will,” Daryl offered, pushing her toward the bedroom.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: Here we are, another chapter here. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl heard the rig a long time before he saw it. It creaked and groaned. It was clearly carrying a much heavier load than would be caused by one person or even a small load of materials. Dog barked, once, into the fog that had settled over the land around them and Daryl called out a warning sound that silenced the dog.

He wasn’t worried about Walkers. Whoever was driving the rig would be prepared to handle them unless there were just far too many. Nobody set out in a creaking rig without the absolute confidence that they could handle a few Walkers. The fences around the house, too, would hold pretty well unless the Walkers were out of control. Daryl felt pretty confident that he could pick off the Walkers before they got to be too much.

He hadn’t seen a herd that would really cause them all a great deal of trouble in a while.

He didn’t want Dog barking because he didn’t want to run the risk that the animal—or the person driving the rig—or anything else, might wake up Carol.

Dog chuffed a couple of times, but he obeyed Daryl’s command to stay quiet even as the rig came into view and rolled to a stop just in front of the gates.

Ezekiel spoke to the horses, set the reins for his return to the rig, and locked the wheels from his seat. Then he dropped down off the rig. Daryl offered him the same warning of quiet when he started to speak and he obeyed much the same way that Dog had—he let out something of a chuffing sound, but he didn’t speak. He left the heavily loaded rig—though Daryl couldn’t see what was loaded there—and brought only a large jug. He let himself into the gate, instead, and petted Dog generously before he made his way to the porch. Daryl didn’t rise up out of his seat for a moment. He was comfortable. Ezekiel put the jug down on the bottom step without comment. Daryl let things lie as they were.

“Coffee on the fire over there,” Daryl said quietly. “Whole stack of mugs in the windowsill. They all clean.”

Ezekiel nodded as thanks for his hospitality and walked toward the little fire to help himself with coffee that sat on the cooking grate perched just off the fire to keep the coffee warm without allowing it to boil out. 

Daryl couldn’t see him at all when he disappeared off to the side for a moment, but he already knew that the Good King was taking himself over to view what Daryl had hung up to drain for breakfast.

“A fresh kill,” Ezekiel said, coming around to mount the porch steps. By way of invitation, Daryl pushed at the empty chair. Ezekiel accepted the seat as it was offered. Daryl offered him a bag of the tightly rolled cigarettes he’d been rolling from paper and loose tobacco to entertain himself during the past little while. It was a tedious job, but he gathered it whenever they came across it because he liked the repetition and the calming effect of creating the perfectly rolled cigarettes. Ezekiel refused one and Daryl lit a fresh one for himself. He tasted his coffee. It was still hot because he’d accidentally gotten the coffee a touch too hot before he’d moved it from the flames.

“That bastard was in our shed when I come out to get the fire goin’,” Daryl offered. “Be a good breakfast, though. Good protein for the baby.” 

“I brought milk,” Ezekiel said, not commenting on the raccoon that would be made into a meal with, more than likely, a great deal left over for later meals. “For the Queen.” 

“Carol,” Daryl said. “For cryin’ out loud. There ain’t nobody out here but me, you, an’ Dog. And he ain’t shit for conversation. Just—drop the damn Good King Wenceslas bullshit.”

Ezekiel laughed to himself and reclined as much as he could in his seat. He sipped his hot coffee and held it like he was warming his hands on the mug. It was chilly. It was clear, this morning, that fall had settled in around them and winter was sending her warnings of impending arrival.

“Good coffee,” Ezekiel said. Daryl hummed. “Is there something wrong with the stove?” 

“I prefer to cook out here,” Daryl said. “Get a little claustrophobic if I stay in the house too much. Besides—didn’t want the smell to wake her up.” 

“She isn’t sleeping well?” Ezekiel asked.

“Not good as I’d want her to,” Daryl offered. He relaxed into his seat, as well. He really didn’t mind Ezekiel’s company when the man wasn’t pretending to be something straight out of a fairy tale. He had a decent enough head on his shoulders, he clearly cared about people and family, and he would do damn near anything that was asked of him. He also loved Carol and, honestly, for as much as that could bristle Daryl if he thought about it one way, he appreciated it when he thought about it another. 

“Nightmares?” Ezekiel asked. Daryl hummed.

“At least I understand ‘em now,” Daryl mused. 

“Sophia,” Ezekiel said. Daryl didn’t know if it was a question or a statement. It was entirely likely that Carol had only told Ezekiel part of her story. It was possible that she hadn’t told anyone the details of everything that haunted her when she closed her eyes. She hadn’t told Daryl everything she dreamed, after all, until he’d finally forced it out of her when she’d woken him by screaming out the night before. Daryl wouldn’t tell the man next to him any of Carol’s secrets. If she wanted to tell them, she could. She was welcome to share them when and where she thought it necessary or useful, but he would hold them for her.

“Damn near her whole fuckin’ life has been a nightmare,” Daryl mused, deciding that neither confirmed nor denied Ezekiel’s suspicions, and it gave away no precious details of the dancing demons in Carol’s mind. “Got a handle on it now, though. Or I’m gettin’ one. Know what I’m dealin’ with.” 

“If I can help…” Ezekiel offered, letting it trail off.

“You helped already,” Daryl said. “Gettin’ Henry to make sure she knows he ain’t pissed at her. Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” 

“He isn’t angry at all,” Ezekiel said. “You know how young people are. The anger passes as soon as it comes. He would have come with me this morning, but he’s loading more supplies to bring later.”

“Supplies?” Daryl asked.

“For your fences and structures,” Ezekiel offered.

“Already?” Daryl asked.

“It would be better to have them done as soon as possible. You’ll want to set the posts and the ground will freeze soon,” Ezekiel explained. “You don’t have to worry, though. Henry is bringing a team from the Kingdom. He’s told me your plans. They’re good plans. They’re reasonable and simple. Henry and the team that he’s organized will make short work of putting them in place.”

“I weren’t gonna ask you for no team,” Daryl offered.

“You didn’t,” Ezekiel said. “Henry did. And if you’ll excuse my directness, you have requests for me to act the way that you prefer, and I have requests for you. I think Henry wants to do this as something for his mother. I would ask that you allow it and without protest. He wants to show her that—he can help provide for her and for his sister. He wants to show her that he’s not angry and, more than that, that he’s ready to be considered a man.” 

Daryl hummed.

“It ain’t necessary, but I’ma accept it ‘cause it matters to him,” Daryl said. “And because you asked me to. I won’t never stand in the way of him doin’ something he thinks is important to do for his Mama an’ the baby. Besides—I’d like to…take her away for a few days anyway. I’d like to borrow a rig.”

“You can borrow a rig any time,” Ezekiel offered.

“Thanks,” Daryl offered. “Need a big one. Might be bringin’ back a load. Couple drafts if we got ‘em to spare so they don’t tire too quick on the way back.” 

“Is this another trip to Hilltop?” Ezekiel asked. “To bring back things for Michael?” 

“He said he’ll handle his own affairs,” Daryl said. “He oughta be at the Kingdom within the week if what he told me ‘fore we left was right. If not, you might see about sendin’ someone to check.”

“If you’re not taking her to the Hilltop,” Ezekiel said, “do I have the right to ask where you’re taking her?” 

Daryl laughed to himself.

“Hell if I know what you got the right to do an’ not do,” Daryl mused. “I never been married to a woman who was married before…”

“Married?” Ezekiel asked, latching immediately onto the word. Daryl’s stomach twisted. He’d wanted desperately to try the word out. He’d wanted to hear it coming out of his mouth. He’d wanted to taste it on his tongue and to see how it might sound. He’d wanted to see someone else respond to his new truth. Being married to Carol seemed impossible. It seemed like a dream, and it still made him a little nervous.

“Last night,” Daryl said. Ezekiel’s face quickly revealed something that Daryl couldn’t quite name. Was it sorrow? Disappointment? He wiped it away quickly and replaced it with a smile.

“And Henry and I weren’t invited?” Ezekiel asked. Daryl couldn’t tell if his words were sincere.

“It ain’t like that,” Daryl said. “Just—an agreement between Carol an’ I. Ain’t nothin’ to be invited to.” 

“It’s been a long time coming,” Ezekiel mused. “And just like that, the Queen steps down.” 

“She’s always gonna be there for the Kingdom,” Daryl said. “That weren’t never gonna change. And…” He hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he felt was right to say, but it still felt strange to accept it as truth and to put it out there. Still, he said it because it needed to be said. “However, it is that it works, she’s always gonna be there for you. I guess you know that, though, or you wouldn’t be havin’ coffee on our porch.” 

Ezekiel laughed to himself.

“I am honored to be welcome in your Kingdom,” Ezekiel offered. 

“Shut up,” Daryl offered, laughing to himself. He lit himself a new cigarette, the other long having burned out. “I’d rather be the Wildman you call me than a King any day.”

“Then a Wildman you shall be,” Ezekiel said. Daryl assumed, now, that the slipping in and out of his role as king was difficult to control. He spent a great deal of time playing the part. Maybe he didn’t always do it to be annoying in private company. Maybe he simply did it because his mind had learned it as a part of himself. Daryl decided he could tolerate it. It was annoying, but it wasn’t being done to annoy him—and there was a big difference between those two things. “Still, Carol remains, to me, always a queen. And I do return to my inquiry about—where you and the Queen are going. A honeymoon, perhaps?” 

“Somethin’ like that,” Daryl offered. “I ain’t told her yet, but I wanna take her to Alexandria.” 

“That’s a fair ride,” Ezekiel said.

“That’s where Michonne is,” Daryl said. 

“Carol has a desire to see Michonne?” Ezekiel asked.

“She needs to see Michonne,” Daryl said. “Whether or not she necessarily desires it. She needs to see Judith and RJ. She needs to just—be there for a little while. They got a lotta nice things there, too. While we’re there, Michonne’ll help her get some stuff for the baby gathered together. Crib an’ stuff.”

“We have everything Carol will need for the baby at the Kingdom,” Ezekiel said. “I have already put together a nursery there for the possibility that she may need to stay there at some point. We have excess furniture. Hilltop is closer if she’d like to choose items from there, even.”

Daryl laughed to himself.

“The furniture is extra,” Daryl said. “It’s Michonne that I want her to have the most. A mother, you know? I think she needs someone to talk to that—ain’t me an’ ain’t you. No offense.” 

“Nabila is always available for Carol,” Ezekiel offered.

“You don’t fuckin’ get it,” Daryl growled. He was a little annoyed that he had to explain himself to this man. Carol would require much less explanation when she woke. She had mentioned Michonne, herself, the night before. She would understand what it was that he was trying to do and what he wanted for her. He didn’t want to explain himself to Ezekiel. “Michonne’s a Ma like Carol.”

“Nabila’s a mother,” Ezekiel offered.

“That ain’t never lost nothin’!” Daryl barked, louder than he meant to. He checked himself with the internal sound of warning that he might have given anyone making that much noise. Dog came trotting over from his patrol of the fences to see if things were OK and Daryl dropped a hand. The animal came up the porch steps and accepted affection from Daryl as assurance that nothing was wrong. Daryl lowered his voice. “It’s different,” he said. “And I don’t owe you no damn explanation for what I do. You ain’t her husband no more.” 

Daryl wasn’t sure if Ezekiel looked shocked or amused.

“I’m sorry,” Daryl offered.

“Don’t be. You’re right,” Ezekiel said. “I’m not. I’m not certain that—I ever was. I only mean that Alexandria is a fair distance to travel.”

“That’s why I wanna go now,” Daryl said. “Early. Before it gets real cold. Before there’s snow. We’ll camp tonight, maybe, somewhere an’ we’ll be there tomorrow. That’s just to keep from travellin’ in the dark. We’ll be back in a week—two if Carol wants—before it gets too cold. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think it’d make a world of difference in Carol. She needs to see Michonne, though…and…”

“And?” Ezekiel pressed when Daryl stopped talking.

“When we went to Hilltop, she had to spend the whole damn time tellin’ the story of how it was that she weren’t married to you no more. Michonne ain’t gonna make her tell the story but once before she just makes it damn near a decree that it ain’t nobody’s business an’ they can ask her in private if they give a shit. We’ve known Michonne a long time. I don’t mean it to piss on you or nothin’, but…Carol can just be Carol there, she don’t have to be the Queen.” 

Ezekiel smiled at Daryl. Slowly the smile spread into a grin. 

“The fuck are you lookin’ at me like that for?” Daryl growled. He almost laughed in spite of himself over how damn amused and jolly Ezekiel looked. Ezekiel rocked a little in his chair before he sat back and drained a long swallow from his coffee cup—the liquid had to be nearly as chilled as Daryl’s was, but they both continued to nurse it along.

“In Alexandria,” Ezekiel mused, “Carol doesn’t have to be the Queen. She can simply be the Wildman’s Lady.” 

Daryl snorted, amused by the sentiment.

“Woman,” Daryl said. “She don’t gotta be the Queen. For once, she can just be the Wildman’s Woman.”


	21. Chapter 21

AN: Here’s another chapter. I hope that you enjoy!

It should be said that I know nothing about where things are located and I’m just making that stuff up, so suspension of disbelief is always appreciated! 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol hadn’t asked Daryl why they were making the trip to Alexandria. She hadn’t protested in any way except to say that she thought they should go by the Kingdom to tell Henry where they were going and when they expected to return so that he wouldn’t be concerned or read things incorrectly. Her worries were quickly soothed, though, when Ezekiel and Henry brought them the rig and team that they’d be using for the trip, along with more supplies they were planning to use to ready their little home for long-term residence and self-sustainability. 

Daryl had given her all the time she’d needed to pack what she wanted to take, prepare the wagon, and say her goodbyes to Henry and Ezekiel both. He’d checked in with Henry to make sure the young man—because much of the reason he was doing this was to prove that he was every bit as much of a man as anyone else—understood what they were hoping for. They discussed fences, storage, and livestock shelters. 

And when Carol was ready, they loaded the wagon and set off for Alexandria. 

Alexandria was a day’s ride when they moved quickly and planned the trip to last no more than a day. This included leaving early and figuring in meals that could be eaten on the road to avoid stops. They had prepared for none of that. When it was nearing dusk, Daryl had chosen a farmhouse along the road that looked promising because it had a barn and fences that were still standing where he could easily leave the team for the night. Carol had cleared the barn while Daryl had cleared the house. At the last moment, they’d decided to keep their team company, and they’d made a bed in the hayloft of the barn using items from the house. They’d packed anything else that they’d really liked into the wagon. Daryl had caught them a rabbit, and Carol had prepared it with some of their travelling food to make a dinner that was as good as any that Daryl could really recall having eaten before.

They harnessed the team as the sun came up, Carol prepared a breakfast from a couple of squirrels caught in quick and simple snares that Daryl had set the night before, and they started off to finish their journey to Alexandria.

Daryl knew that Carol was excited about the trip, but he could also tell that she was nervous. She was quiet and, by now, Daryl knew that Carol had different types of “quiet”. Still, he didn’t push her to talk. He understood what made her nervous. They were going to see Michonne—their oldest friend in this world, and the one who had been with them through so many things—and they would be telling her about their relationship and their baby, along with the truth about Carol’s marriage to Ezekiel, all at once. It was enough to stir up a few nerves. 

Daryl, oddly enough, felt entirely calm about it. Maybe it was because he knew Michonne wouldn’t show disapproval even if she felt it. Maybe it was simply because he knew that Carol needed him, at that moment, to just be the quiet and calm one of the two of them.

Their arrival had clearly been seen by one of the people that were keeping watch. The gates opened for them like they were automatic as they arrived. Daryl drove the team directly inside the walls of Alexandria and didn’t stop it until he knew they were fully clear the gates. He set the reins and locked the wheels, certain that the well-trained team would wait until they were unharnessed or given further commands. 

The gates were closed behind them by people that Daryl didn’t know well enough to care about—these days he tried to care very little about people that weren’t truly important to him—and he looked around for any familiar face in the small crowd that passed to have a look at the new arrivals to Alexandria.

Carol sat on her seat, too, and looked around.

Daryl saw her smile start, though, before he ever actually picked out Michonne’s figure walking toward them. 

Michonne looked every bit as much like royalty in Alexandria as Ezekiel pretended to be in the Kingdom. She was scowling, at first, because she didn’t immediately recognize them. She walked toward them, straight backed with the hilt of her katana peeking over her shoulder. Clearly, she’d been clearing Walkers or doing some other such activity—or, since she looked pretty clean, maybe she’d been simply preparing to go out for something.

As soon as she saw them, though, the angry scowl that made the woman seem unapproachable melted into a warm smile and her steps quickened like she might run to toward the wagon. Daryl got down first, and walked around to meet her as she approached. He stuck a hand out in greeting, already knowing how she would react. She looked at his hand, frowned at him before letting the frown melt back into the smile and then she wrapped him in a tight hug.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she declared.

“We were hoping to surprise you,” Daryl said. “That OK?” 

“You’re always welcome in Alexandria,” Michonne declared. “You know I’ve been trying to get you to move back here.” 

She pulled away from Daryl and looked at Carol. Carol was half leaning in her seat and she smiled warmly at Michonne.

“Carol!” Michonne declared. “Where’s Ezekiel?” 

Daryl reached his hands up in Carol’s direction. The rig was a high one and he’d already told her that, though he trusted all of her abilities, he preferred her to let him at least have his hands near her for security as she climbed up and down the side. Carol quickly got up, turned, and made her way down the side. She didn’t need Daryl as she stepped securely onto the ground, but he preferred to at least know that he’d offered her some protection against falling. 

Michonne hugged Carol and, pulling back from the hug, her eyes immediately drifted down to the small change in Carol’s body that barely presented itself as proof of their eventual arrival.

Michonne smiled at Carol’s belly before bringing her eyes up to meet Carol’s and smile at her. 

“Is this…?” She said, clearly afraid that she might say something to insult Carol. 

Carol’s smile and the red that flushed through her cheeks, though, made it clear that she wasn’t insulted. She pressed her hand over her belly before Michonne followed suit with her own hand.

“It is!” Carol said with more enthusiasm than Daryl had heard her use in a while. His heart fluttered a little and he was already patting himself on the back for making the decision to take this trip. They had only just arrived and already he could clearly see that it was doing Carol some good.

“Oh—Carol!” Michonne said. Her enthusiasm was clearly not faked. “I’m so—happy for you! Where’s Ezekiel? He must be over the moon!” 

Carol stepped back from Michonne like she’d been burned and Michonne’s face immediately registered her concern. Daryl cleared his throat.

“That’s quite a story,” Daryl offered. “And—it ain’t Ezekiel’s.” 

Michonne looked confused and concerned. Perhaps she had reason to look that way. After all, what reason would she have had to suspect that Carol’s marriage to Ezekiel had been nothing more than a marriage of convenience that would bring comfort to them both while making the Kingdom feel like there were more reasons to keep going in this world? 

“Are you OK?” Michonne asked, catching Carol’s arms. Daryl was glad that her concern was immediately heaped on Carol. Carol replaced her smile, but it wasn’t quite as beaming as before.

“I’m fine,” Carol assured her. “Wonderful. And—Ezekiel’s fine, too.” 

“We were hopin’ to stay a couple days,” Daryl said. “Maybe even—like a week or two. If—if that’s alright with you?” 

“We’ve got plenty of room,” Michonne said. “You’ll stay with us.” 

“We can stay in a room anywhere,” Daryl offered. “We don’t want to be any trouble.”

“You could never be trouble,” Michonne said. “You’ll stay with us. Judith and RJ will love it.” 

Daryl nodded. 

“Let’s get our things and we’ll—fill you in on everything,” he offered. 

Michonne nodded.

“I’ll help,” she said. “We’ll take the long way to the house. If you don’t mind…I think I’d like to hear the story before Judith and RJ realize we’ve got company.” 

Daryl and Carol both nodded. It was only fair that Michonne know the story and have a few minutes to process it before she was thinking about how she wanted to present it to her small children. Daryl shouldered the majority of their bags. He offered Carol a light bag to satisfy the desire to carry something that her outstretched hand communicated, and h offered Michonne the one slightly heavy bag that he couldn’t shoulder along with everything else. 

Michonne gave the command to have their team cared for and the rig stored for the time being. Dog had run on ahead of them—making himself familiar with every hand willing to touch him and every surface waiting to be pissed on—and Michonne started the walk that would take them on a twisting route through Alexandria and buy them the time to tell their story.

When they were pretty much alone, Carol started it. 

“Michonne—Ezekiel and I were never really married. Not in a…not…”

“Not in a biblical way,” Daryl offered, laughing to himself.

Michonne walked almost sideways. She was half looking where she was going and half looking at them. She furrowed her brow at Carol.

“So, you were just…”

“Friends,” Carol supplied. “Good friends. I mean—we love each other, but…” She sighed and Daryl let her have her moment. “We love each other, but I just couldn’t love Ezekiel. Not that way.” She took an interest in the ground she was treading like she feared she might trip over some obstacle. “I was already in love.”

Without prompting and without hesitation, Michonne looked at Daryl. He felt his face grow warm. Michonne laughed to herself. 

“I’d be lying if I said I was really surprised,” Michonne mused. “But—how long? You were gone so much…”

“I’d go and visit him,” Carol offered. She smiled sideways at Daryl and her cheeks ran pink again. “My Wildman in the woods,” she mused. She shrugged her shoulders. “On one of those visits, I guess I took something back to the Kingdom with me. Though it took me a little while to know.” 

“It’s yours?” Michonne asked. Daryl nodded. She smiled and stammered a second before she could fully form her words. “Congratulations…to the…to both of you.”

Each of them nodded as a way of acknowledging her congratulations. They weren’t entirely accustomed to getting congratulations. A lot of people liked to hear the story, but forgot the congratulations afterwards. 

“There ain’t too much more to tell,” Daryl offered. “We’re livin’ in Carol’s little house outside the Kingdom now. Henry’s there fixin’ it up as we speak. We’re gonna build somethin’ small to settle, but we’re…we’re still sorta part of the Kingdom. We’re married. Newly married, I guess. A couple nights ago.”

“We just decided to use the word,” Carol said. “But not much has changed.”

Michonne looked happy and then suddenly concerned.

“Siddiq can have a look at you,” Michonne said. 

“That’s not necessary,” Carol said.

“We’d more than appreciate it,” Daryl said, doing his best to counteract Carol’s words. When she eyed him grumpily, he shook his head at her gently. “A second, third, or four-hundredth opinion is appreciated. There’s a lotta time to talk ahead of us, but a little reassurance is one of the reasons we come here.” 

“We’ve already seen Michael at the Hilltop,” Carol said. “He’s moving to the Kingdom for the rest of the pregnancy. He says—I’m about twenty weeks. It’s a girl.”

“He says she’s healthy,” Daryl said.

“He says the baby’s small,” Carol corrected. “Underweight.”

“Because you ain’t been eatin’ enough,” Daryl said.

“Or because she’s not growing properly,” Carol offered.

“Carol’s blood pressure’s up an’ her heartbeat’s not regular,” Daryl said. “Mostly it’s anxiety an’ if we could just get her calm and consistently happy…”

“We don’t know that it’s not just a problem with the whole…I’m not exactly the age that one would choose to have a baby,” Carol said.

Michonne looked back and forth between them like someone trying to keep up with the swinging pendulum of a grandfather clock that had gotten wildly out of control.

“We’ll take your things with us. We’ll go see Siddiq first,” Michonne said, the moment she saw the opportunity to speak at all. “I remember when I was pregnant with RJ. A little reassurance can go a long way.” 

“That’s all I’m saying,” Daryl offered.

Michonne’s face, though, made it clear that she wasn’t to be argued with. She wasn’t asking them—and really it was clear that she was looking most sternly at Carol. She was telling them how she expected things to be handled in her “home”. 

“And after we see Siddiq, then we’ll get you settled at the house so we can really talk about everything you’ve got to look forward to! I can’t wait to hear the rest of this story.”

“That’s really all there is,” Carol offered. Daryl noticed that she didn’t try to argue with Michonne at all as the woman started leading her toward the house where Siddiq had made his office.

“Trust me,” Michonne said. “That’s not all there is. I’ve still got plenty of questions.”

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

AN: I’ll give the same disclaimer as always; I sort of make characters who I want them to be. I can’t keep up with the show and their often inconsistent character profiles. I hope that doesn’t bother anyone.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!


End file.
